The phone shook in Lena's hand and she realized she was trembling all over.
Someone knows she was alive. Someone knows her real identity.
When her legs could no longer carry her she collapsed onto her chair. How? How did they know? She had been so careful these five years. She had cut off ties to her old life, every damn thing. There wasn't a link in that old life that someone could connect and it would point to her.
She looked nothing like Lena Santoro, also. Her face was slimer, her cheekbones higher, jaw more squared. If you brought a picture of when she was twenty and held it to her face now you wouldn't see any glance of resemblance, except she takes off her contact lenses and leaves her hair in the natural color. She had confirmed it herself.
Life has hardened her in every way
