There was a brief silence.
Then the woman answered.
“He’s not coming back.”
A chill spread through her entire body.
“What do you mean…not coming back?”
The woman inhaled slowly, as if choosing her words with care.
“He’s gone. But not in the way you think.”
Her heart began to race.
“Stop speaking in riddles,” she snapped, her patience cracking under the weight of fear and exhaustion. “Tell me clearly what’s going on.”
The woman nodded once.
Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a thick file.
It looked heavy. Important. Final.
“First… there’s something you need to understand,” she said quietly. “I’m not his mistress.”
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