Anya eyes my face for several seconds, tapping her fingers against the notebook cover. “That’s a significant decision. One that could affect every aspect of your current life.”
“I know.” I maintain eye contact, not backing down from whatever she’s looking for.
“Including your relationship with your husband.”
“I know that, too.”
“And you’re prepared for those consequences?”
“I’m prepared to face whatever truth I discover, even if it’s not what I want to hear.” I uncross my arms and place my hands flat on my thighs, grounding myself.
“Truth can be more complicated than people expect. Sometimes, the reality is messier than the official story or the alternative theories.”
“I’ll take messy truth over comfortable lies.”
“Even if the truth means losing people you’ve grown to care about?” She tilts her head, watching my reaction carefully.
“Even then.”
Anya nods and gathers her materials. “If that’s your decision, I respect it. But please call if you need support working through whatever you discover.”
“Thank you.”
“And Katya?” She pauses with her hand on her briefcase handle. “Be careful who you trust with sensitive information. Complex situations often involve people with competing loyalties.”
After Anya leaves, I watch through the kitchen window as she walks to her car. She sits in the driver’s seat for several minutes, making phone calls, probably checking in with Viktor and his team.
Pavel arrives one hour later, carrying a manila envelope instead of his usual briefcase.
“Mrs. Kozlov, I have some paperwork that requires your signature. Administrative details related to your housing situation.”
I eye the envelope and ask, “What kind of paperwork?”
“Dr. Sokolova recommended we update your documentation. She mentioned your therapy session was quite productive today. Standard documentation in case of emergencies. Nothing complicated.” He sits across from me and opens the envelope, pulling out several official-looking forms. “Your lease arrangements, insurance policies, that sort of thing.”
I glance at the documents, and my chest constricts as I recognize the government letterhead. She knows. Anya knows that I’ve gotten my memories back, and she told Pavel.
Pavel points to signature lines on the first form. “This one confirms your current address and contact information.”
My hands shake as I read the fine print. Emergency contact authorization. Medical decision-making authority. Legal representation agreements.
This isn’t about housing arrangements.
“Who would be my backup contacts?”
“Professional associates who understand your situation. People qualified to handle complex circumstances if they arise.”
My throat feels like it’s closing. They’re preparing to extract me, and these forms give them legal authority to make decisions I might not agree with. Including decisions about testifying against Dmitri.
“What if I… don’t want to sign these?”
Pavel cocks an eyebrow, and I can tell by the look on his face that he understands what I’m asking.
What if I want to stay with Dmitri?
“Then you’d be choosing to operate without proper documentation. Which could create difficulties if assistance becomes necessary.”
His meaning is crystal clear: Sign the forms or face consequences without legal protection.
