Two weeks passed. No calls. No visits. Nothing. I eventually received an envelope at my workplace. Inside was a key and a handwritten note. “Apartment 7B. Don’t tell anyone.” I went there that evening. The apartment was empty. Except for a laptop sitting on the kitchen table. There were photographs of my boyfriend with several people I’d never seen before. Then I found bank statements. Large transfers. Millions of dollars moving between accounts. I immediately thought he’d been involved in something illegal. Then I saw my own name. There was a bank account opened using my identity. I hadn’t opened it. Before I could investigate further, someone knocked. I froze. A man’s voice came from outside. “Open the door. We know you’re in there.” I grabbed the laptop and ran through the back exit. That night, my boyfriend finally called. Me: “What have you gotten me into?” Him: “Listen carefully.” Me: “No. You listen. Someone just threatened me.” He went silent. Then said: “That’s why I needed you to disappear from my life.”