PARTE 1: LOS CUATRO HOMBRES QUE QUERÍAN MATARLA
The old woman had always known that one day the past would come looking for her.
She just never expected it to happen on a rainy Thursday morning, in the middle of a tropical rainforest, with four half dressed men chasing her across a wooden suspension bridge.
Her name was Elena Voss.
She was seventy three years old, with a deeply wrinkled face, silver hair hidden beneath a floral headscarf, and a small wooden walking stick that she had carried for nearly thirty years.
To anyone who saw her, Elena looked like a harmless grandmother who had wandered too far from civilization.
But the four men chasing her knew better.
And they were terrified of what she might be carrying.
"GET HER! DON'T LET HER ESCAPE!"
The shouting echoed across the gorge.
Elena ran as fast as her old legs could carry her. Her black skirt slapped against her knees, her floral blouse was soaked with sweat, and her right hand tightened around her walking stick.
Behind her, four muscular men charged out of a wooden cabin at the far end of the bridge.
Their leader was a broad shouldered man named Viktor.
He had a shaved head, a crooked nose, and a long scar running down his neck.
Viktor had spent fifteen years working for a private security company that specialized in recovering stolen property for wealthy clients.
But this time, the property wasn't jewelry, money, or a priceless painting.
It was a secret.
And Elena was the only person alive who knew where it was hidden.
"STOP RUNNING, OLD WOMAN!" Viktor roared.
Elena glanced over her shoulder.
The men were getting closer.
The bridge swayed violently beneath their combined weight. Its old wooden planks groaned, and the ropes rattled in the wind.
Below them, a gigantic waterfall thundered into a turquoise lake surrounded by towering moss covered cliffs.
There was nowhere to hide.
No road.
No boat.
No way down.
Only the water.
And the secret she had spent thirty years protecting.
"No..." Elena whispered, her breathing becoming ragged. "I have to keep running."
She had promised her daughter that she would never reveal the truth.
Even if it cost her life.
Especially if it cost her life.
But three hours earlier, Elena had discovered something that changed everything.
The four men weren't searching for an old legend anymore.
They had found her daughter's name in a confidential government archive.
And they knew about the child.
Elena's granddaughter.
A little girl who had supposedly died twenty five years ago.
A little girl who was very much alive.
Viktor reached the middle of the bridge.
"YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T BELONG TO YOU!"
Elena suddenly stopped.
The men slowed, surprised.
For one brief moment, the old woman stood perfectly still.
Then she looked down at the lake.
The water was violently churning beneath the waterfall.
Viktor smiled.
"That's it. You finally understand."
Elena turned toward him.
Her frightened expression disappeared.
In its place was something the men had never seen before.
Defiance.
"You should have left my family alone," she said.
Viktor's smile vanished.
"What did you say?"
Elena planted her walking stick between two wooden planks.
Then she climbed onto the railing.
"YOU CRAZY OLD WOMAN!" one of the men shouted.
Viktor lunged forward.
But he was too late.
Elena swung one leg over the rope railing, followed by the other, and released her grip.
For a moment, she seemed to hang above the endless drop.
Then she fell.
The men rushed to the railing.
Viktor stared down in disbelief.
"YOU BITCH!"
Far below, Elena plunged toward the turquoise lake.
And as the water rushed toward her face, she whispered a name she hadn't spoken aloud in twenty five years.
May you like
"Anastasia."
Then the lake swallowed her whole.
