At the checkout, though, she suddenly realized she’d forgotten her wallet. Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair and tried calling her husband. No answer.
Apologizing to the cashier, she asked them to hold her basket and quickly made her way home.
As she neared the apartment door, ready to step inside, she froze. She could hear her husband, Boris, talking on the phone.
“Yeah, I’ve figured it all out,” he said. “The apartment’s almost transferred. I just need to send the money.”
Anna’s heart dropped. What apartment? What money? What was he doing?
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