She skipped the lines and cracks of the concrete sidewalk, just as she used to as a child. It wasn't so much a silly superstition, as a happy distraction from her childhood demons. And in some way that little girl still existed in side of her—the pain she carried all those years molded the woman she became—the solitude made her walls ever higher and impenetrable. And she continued to live in a world half of illusion. Where she was someone else, surrounded by others as incredible as she—a place where she was loved, wanted and desired, where affections were abound.

But it was no use; really… the world in front and surrounding her was of gray and silence within the city noises. She longed again for her tiny cottage in Surrey, hidden away between the trees. The calm and the peace—perfect to write and to read—her passions. It was perfect because no one ever really knocked on her door.

She walked straight ahead, as quickly as she could in the dark heels she wore—a remainder and occasional luxury of her life before. She swerved away from the people—everyone in a rush, seeing, but not exactly looking at anything or anyone. Remote villages in tiny mountains are less of a hiding place than the modern metropolises.

She held on to her leather satchel, closely to her body, as she came near her destiny—a tall building holding several offices—the glass of the windows reflecting the buildings and the clouds in the sky. She showed her identification card in the lobby and in no time was in the elevator, heading for the fourteenth floor. It was that blessed time of the week, where she had to pour out to a complete stranger—her therapist—all of her memories, troubles, feelings and anguishes. The woman was beautiful, short blonde hair and a kind smile… She was from Switzerland, it turned out, so that explained her slight accent. Dr. Madeleine Swann…

In less than a year, she knew nothing but her name, but the woman knew almost every aspect of her life—but thankfully, not all. There were some things she simply wasn't willing to share—matters of the heart and matters of life and death—of her death.

Madeleine knew that this was her second life—that everything, starting from her name, had been modified. For her safety, they had said, but she wasn't so sure. The identity change hadn't made her safe from herself.

"Good afternoon, Ms. V—Dr. Swann is waiting for you in her office." The secretary said with a plastic smile. She simply nodded—Ms. V—and made her way towards it, the wide and tall wooden door opened, waiting for her.