Astrid climbed onto my bed and immediately grabbed her phone after seeing the photos. "Yes, the ones I just sent you. Wipe them completely from the internet. Leave no traces. Make sure everything is blocked—no leaks, no remnants. I'll pay whatever it takes. Just do a clean job," she said firmly before hanging up.
Turning to me, she tried to reassure me, "Rinatta, don't worry. It'll be fine." But her anxious expression betrayed her words.
Finding clues didn't require much effort in the digital age, just persistence. If Leonard saw these photos, he might connect the dots and discover I wasn't dead.
The chilling thought settled in as I stared at the photos. My face was clearly visible. The photos were not of the sharpest resolution, but it was enough to recognize me. My wig was identical to the one I had used before, and despite my efforts, my overall style hadn't changed much.
While strangers might not notice, I was certain that Leonard or Alisa would recognize me instantly.
Zack also texted me, saying he had contacted friends to help get the posts removed. Even so, unease lingered. Once these photos were online, their trace couldn't be entirely erased. If someone stumbled across them later, it could explode like a time bomb.
I slumped onto the bed, unsure what the future held. Astrid hugged me gently. "You've been through worse. No one's going to care about a few gossip photos. You're not a celebrity, Rinatta."
She paused, trying to sound optimistic. "Even if someone saw them, they'd never connect the dots. You had a funeral; no one will think it's you. Trust me."
I nodded weakly. Leonard was about to marry Amelia. There was no reason for him to pay attention to me anymore.
…
The next morning, Andrew told me my condition had improved and I could be discharged.
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