The case of my abrupt disappearance had been taken by Interpol, but after the declaration of my death and that of my wife, the case was closed. Now everything had changed; Anya was murdered in the United States, so Russian and American justice entered into an epic dispute for the right to claim the case. My father, in collusion with Rex and some highly influential people, pulled strings so that it would once again pass to Interpol jurisdiction, but I did not escape being interrogated, evaluated by psychology specialists, and having Anya’s burial delayed. Our specialists got to her body first, and by the time the police requested their own certifications, everything was arranged, even the smallest alibi.
Not only that. I knew that shortly I would have to repeat many bad experiences, since
