Chapter 5. “The Friend”

7:43
A phone call.
Who could be calling this early…?

“Hello…” Irene said sleepily.

“Irene! I’m expecting you tomorrow. Will you help me deliver something to the restaurant tonight?” Olivia’s voice sounded overly confident, as if there had never been any pause in their communication.

Olivia — a “friend.” At least that’s how she called herself. In reality, Irene had seen her only twice a year — at conferences where attendance was mandatory.

“Um… Olivia?” Irene was fully awake now.

“Yes, Irene. What’s wrong? I know I called early, but you usually run at six. I thought you’d been up for a while.”

“Wait. When did I start running?” surprise pushed away the last remnants of sleep.

“Well… about ten months ago. You even invited me to join you.”

“Strange. I don’t remember that. Olivia, I’m in Krakow now and wasn’t planning to go back to Warsaw.”

“What? You promised to help me with my birthday!”

“Me? Are you sure? We only meet a few times a year. When did we get so close?”

“Well… after that interview with Oscar Mitchell. I knew his wife and helped you organize everything. That’s when we started communicating more closely.”

Irene froze.

“And do you remember why I needed that interview?” she asked cautiously.

“Irene, you’re being weird…”

The puzzle didn’t fit. A “friend” who knew nothing about her memory loss. If they had really been close — how was that possible?

“Just tell me.”

“Well… I don’t know. You’re always so busy.”

Irene took a deep breath.

“Okay. I had an accident. I was in a coma for several months. Part of my life is complete darkness. I don’t remember anything,” she finally said.

“Oh… I’m so sorry,” Olivia replied. Too quickly. Too evenly.

“Yes,” Irene said dryly.

“But… if we were so close, how could I not know?”

“Mmm… well… I was in America all that time. Different time zone. I didn’t want to bother you, knowing your work. You needed your rest.”

The lie sounded awkward.

Irene immediately realized Olivia was making it up on the spot. But instead of exposing her, Irene decided to play along. After all, this girl had introduced her to Oscar Mitchell. If the truth existed — it was close, near Olivia.

They would have to “be friends” all over again.

“You know, I’m not in the habit of letting people down,” Irene said calmly. “Tomorrow morning I’ll take the train to Warsaw. I’ll help you. And we can change the scenery a bit.”

“Oh, great! I’m so happy. I’ll text you the address. Bye!”

“Bye.”

The call ended.

“Well… the game has begun,” Irene whispered.

She knew: she had to act quietly. Carefully. Time would reveal the truth. Perhaps she was just a puppet in someone’s hands. Or perhaps — in her own.

The feeling that she was a killer never left her.
Like a shadow, impossible to escape.

***

Train. The Journey to Warsaw

Irene decided she didn’t have much time. She wanted to unravel these mysteries as quickly as possible, so without hesitation, she booked a train ticket and started gathering her things.

The next morning, at 9:30, the train sped along a quiet, snow-covered track.

Sitting in the carriage, Irene sank completely into her thoughts, losing all sense of time. Only a sharp jolt brought her back to reality — the station, the final stop.

Stepping off the train, she got into a taxi and headed toward her apartment, which she had recently left, not expecting to return so soon.

Opening the door, Irene froze on the threshold. Her gaze swept across the familiar walls, and bitter memories of happier times that once filled this place struck her heart painfully.

Bzzzz.

Her phone rang.

“Yes,” Irene answered, picking up the receiver.

“Hi, are you in Warsaw already?” It was Olivia.

“Yes, I just arrived.”

“Great. I’m waiting for you.”

“Okay, send me the address in a message.”

“I already did. And I ordered a taxi for you — it will be there in five minutes.”

“Uh… okay,” Irene replied uneasily.

She couldn’t understand how Olivia had arranged all this so quickly. It was as if she had been watching her.

Maybe she had.

Irene felt that her suspicions were not unfounded. Olivia was involved in this story.

“All right, I’m waiting,” Olivia said and hung up.

Irene hesitated about taking the taxi. But she didn’t know the address to go on her own.

A trap, — the thought flickered.

Stepping outside, she immediately saw the taxi waiting just below the building.

“Good afternoon,” Irene greeted.

“Good,” the driver replied curtly.

“And the address?”

“Three Crosses Square, 10/14.”

Irene quickly entered the address into her phone and was surprised — it was a well-known restaurant in the center of Warsaw.

Arriving, she got out of the car, looked around, and entered. An administrator immediately approached her.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Irene. Please, come in. Ms. Olivia is already waiting for you.”

“Good…,” Irene said, flustered.

How does he know my name?
Who is Olivia, really?
Someone was playing a very complicated game.

“O-o-oh, Irene, you’re finally here!” Olivia immediately came over and hugged her.

“Y-yes, I’m here,” Irene replied awkwardly.

“How was the ride?” Olivia asked, in a falsely caring tone.

“Fine. Why do you need me?”

“I need your help choosing the menu for tomorrow night. And then we’ll go pick an evening dress for you.”

Shock only intensified Irene’s unease. Such attention from Olivia felt unnatural. She remembered her well — a person interested only in herself.

“I have an appropriate dress; it’s not necessary,” Irene tried to refuse.