Two identities.
Two lives.
Two faces.
And the worst sensation of all was knowing that her mother might have known from the beginning.
Her mother’s words before the wedding came back to her again and again.
“You will understand one day.”
Understand what?
Why marry her to him?
What did she know that she had never said?
The night was long. It was impossible to close her eyes. Every shadow on the ceiling looked like a question that would not stop following her.
The next day, she tried to act as if nothing had happened, but every time she looked at him, she saw again the image of that perfect suit, that shining car, that man who had nothing of a beggar about him. She wanted to speak, to ask another question, but her throat tightened too much.
He simply set a warm cup of tea in front of her.
“You still haven’t eaten,” he murmured.
She stared at him for a long time before finding the strength to whisper, “You are not a beggar, are you?”
He did not answer.
A slight smile crossed his face, and he walked out, leaving her alone with a doubt that was now growing faster than her fear.
As the days passed, a certainty settled inside her. Karim Diallo, this man she thought she knew, was hiding something immense, something capable of overturning her life again.
She moved through the house like a shadow, torn between the fear of discovering the truth and the fear of continuing to live in a lie.
Since that revelation, every second had become a dilemma. She had believed she was married to a beggar, but the reality was more complex than anything she could have imagined.
Then one evening, while discreetly looking through the things he had left behind, she found a letter.
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