The Clinic That Wasn’t There!

It was nine forty-seven in the morning on a Friday.

The rain from the previous night had washed the cobblestones of Tbilisi. The sky still looked gray, but the sun occasionally peeked out from behind the clouds, illuminating the glass of the buildings for a few moments.

Vakhtang stood in front of a glass door and looked at the paper his daughter was holding.

"Lika dear, are you sure it's right here?"

Lika looked at her phone screen again.

"The street is correct, the building number is correct. Ground floor, on the right."

Vakhtang pointed with his finger to the sign above the door.

"So what does this clothing store say in the middle? Are doctors now selling dentures alongside shirts?"

Lika laughed, but her laughter quickly faded.

Where the dental clinic was supposed to be, there was now a small store with a few mannequins behind the window. On the glass, in a corner near the handle, there was a faded piece of paper stuck:

"The clinic has moved to a new address."

Below the note, there was a phone number, part of which had been erased due to moisture.

Vakhtang sighed.

"I am seventy-three years old. I came for a dental repair, not for a stroll in Tbilisi."

Lika looked at the clock with concern. They had a consultation appointment at ten o'clock. They had found the address from one of the search results online. Lika had even shown her father a picture of the building the night before to make it easier for them to find it in the morning.

Now the building had been found. Only the clinic was no longer there.

Lika found the number she had called to make the appointment and dialed it again. After a few rings, a woman answered:

"Dr. Glashvili's clinic, how may I help you?"

Lika tried to speak calmly.

"Hello. We have an appointment at ten o'clock, but we came to the address that was online. There is no clinic here anymore!"

A few seconds of silence followed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! You found the old address. We moved a few months ago."

"Well, why is that same address still online?"

The woman on the phone had no answer.

Lika looked at her father. Vakhtang was sitting on the edge of a short garden bed, using his cane to brush droplets of water off the stone beside him.

"Please text me the new address. We're going to be late."

"Sure. I'll let the doctor know too."

Lika ended the call.

Vakhtang raised his head.

"Did you find it?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Good. I just hope that by the time we get there, the doctor is still a doctor and hasn't gone off to open a shoe store!"

A real clinic with a fictional address

Dr. Elene Glashvili was a woman in her forties who placed great importance on order.

Patients who entered her clinic for the first time usually praised the cleanliness and tranquility of the environment. In the new clinic, large windows brought daylight into the waiting room. A few flower pots were placed against the wall, a coffee machine was visible in the corner of the hall, and a small painting by a Georgian artist was hung above the reception desk.

Everything was tidy. Except for the internet.

When the receptionist recounted the story of Lika and Vakhtang, Elene initially thought it was an accidental mistake. But that same day, before they arrived, she received two more calls.

A man wanted to know if the clinic had closed down. Another woman asked why the number she found on a doctor directory website belonged to someone else.

Elene sat down at her desk and searched for her clinic's name.

The first result was the old address. The second result showed a photo of the clinic's previous sign. The third result pointed to a page that had working hours from two years ago.

Elene leaned back in her chair.

"We've been here for seven months. How does half the internet still think we're on the other side of the city?"

Tamta, the receptionist, said:

"Maybe we should create a website."

Elene smiled bitterly.

"Last year I got a quote for designing a website. The cost of launching it is one thing, and the support and maintenance is another. Every time you want to change something, you have to look for a designer."

Tamta looked at the computer screen.

"But we really need to do something. Yesterday someone said they thought the clinic had closed down."

Alna searched for one of her partner clinics. Among the results, a page with photos, working hours, doctor introductions, and educational articles caught her attention. The page address belonged to a system called Rigi24.

She clicked on it.

At first glance, the page looked like the dedicated website of that clinic. Services, images, descriptions, and contact methods were neatly arranged together.

Alna looked at the bottom of the page. She read the name of the system.

Rigi24.

Tamta asked:

"What is this?"

"I don't know. But apparently, it can be used to introduce a business."

A few minutes later, Alna dialed the support number.

"Why should we send someone?"

In the NetCity office, it was just past ten o'clock.

Nika entered the room with a cup of tea in hand and, seeing Mari sitting at the desk, said:

"Good morning. It's Friday. I hope at least today no one has changed their 8 AM shift to 8:02."

Mari looked up.

"You still haven't forgotten about those four minutes?"

"How could I forget? It was my first day at work. Those four minutes almost ruined someone's life."

"It's good that you remember. I just hope you remember the lesson too."

Nika sat down on the chair.

"That I should never trust four minutes?"

"That you should check the information before judging."

Nika raised his glass.

"To accurate information!"

At that moment, Mari's phone rang.

Mari answered.

"Hello, NetCity, how can I help you?"

Elene introduced herself and quickly got to the point.

"I have a dental clinic. I'm looking for a way to publish our clinic's information, services, and address online. I saw one of my colleague's pages on Rigi24."

Mari asked a few short questions about the clinic's needs.

Elene said:

"To be honest, right now more than anything, I just want a neat page. I don't want anyone searching for us to end up at the old address."

"I understand. To start, the core section of the system might be suitable."

"Great. When can you send someone to the clinic to set it up?"

Mari paused for a moment.

"There's no need for anyone to come."

"So I have to install the program myself?"

"No, an in-person installation isn't necessary either. You register through the website, create your business, and enter the information. I'll guide you step by step if needed."

Alna hesitantly asked:

"Do I even upload the photos and services myself?"

"Yes."

"What about the working hours?"

"Yes."

"Can I also publish an article?"

"You can do that too."

A moment of silence ensued.

Then Alna asked:

"So what exactly do you do?"

Nika, who was overhearing the conversation from beside the table, quietly said:

"That's a good question. I want to know why I was hired here too."

Mari covered her mouth with her hand to avoid laughing.

Then she returned to the phone.

"We have prepared the system so that you can independently handle a large part of the tasks. If you have any issues with registration, settings, or using the features, support will assist you."

Elene said:

"Then let's give it a try."

A small page, a big possibility

Dr. Elene sat down at the computer.

Mari put the phone on speaker mode and simultaneously opened her help panel. Nika brought his chair a little closer.

"Do you need help?"

Mari nodded yes.

"Follow the steps from here. If we have any questions, check it out."

Nika sat up straight; as if a significant mission had been entrusted to him.

Alna started the registration. She entered the business information and completed the necessary steps to create and verify the account. Then she reached the section where she had to enter the clinic's name, type of activity, and main information.

"Well, I wrote the name of the clinic. Now the address."

Mari said:

"This part is important. Enter the new address, not the one that was previously online."

Alna laughed.

"There's no way I can mess that up!"

A few minutes later, the basic information was registered; the clinic's name, contact number, address, working hours, and a brief description of its services.

Alna looked at the page.

"So, is this like an internet business card now?"

Mari said:

"You can start from here, but it's not just a business card."

She explained that the business could develop its own dedicated page; introduce its services, publish real images, write about its specialties, and provide educational articles to the audience.

For example, the clinic could publish articles about children's dental care, the differences in treatment methods, or tips that patients should know before visiting.

Elene said:

"So I don't have to call you for every article?"

"No. You publish it yourself and change the information whenever necessary."

"So what if the clinic's working hours change?"

"You can correct that yourself too."

"What if the photo becomes outdated?"

Nika couldn't hold himself back.

He said quietly:

"A photo can also retire."

Mari gently nudged his arm with her elbow.

"Nika!"

From behind the phone, Elene's laughter came.

"Is your colleague always there?"

Mari smiled.

"She's new. Still full of energy."

Elene said:

"So take good care of her. She might end up like us in a few months."

The cost that couldn't be found

About half an hour had passed. Elene was now seeing her business page with real information. Not all sections were completed yet, but she had gotten the hang of it.

She said:

"Well, so far so good. Now, how much does it cost?"

Mari said:

"This part that we are setting up is free."

Now he waited for the continuation of the sentence.

"For how many months?"

"Forever, as long as you use the core section according to the system's conditions."

"So it's not a trial period?"

"No. Core is the permanently free foundational module of Rigi24."

Now he looked at the page again.

"Surely I must activate one of the paid modules somewhere to keep this page."

Mari said:

"No. You are not required to purchase another module to keep this page."

"Even for booking?"

"Even for booking."

"Customer club?"

"That's separate."

"So what if I don't want any of them?"

"You can still use Core."

Nika wrote in his notebook:

"Free, not just to attract customers in the first month."

Then he drew a line under it.

Mari took a quick glance at the note.

"Good. You understood this one correctly."

Elene said over the phone:

"Honestly, I don't have a good memory of offers that are said to be free at first and then it turns out you have to buy a few other things."

Mari replied:

"That's why we clearly explain the difference between the core section and the optional modules. If later, for example, you want to have online booking, you can activate the related module separately. If you don't want it, your free page will remain as it is."

Then he said:

"So for now, let's just get this right. Before I look for more features, I need to make sure people can find the clinic's address!"

The clinic in the second city

At the same time, Giorgi passed by Mari's desk. He had a folder in hand and seemed to be preparing for a meeting.

Nika said:

"Giorgi, a question."

Giorgi stopped.

"Go ahead."

"If everyone can register themselves and activate the module, then why do you still have so many meetings?"

Giorgi looked at the folder.

"Because not all meetings are for software installation. Some people want consultations before making a decision. Some businesses have special conditions. Others prefer to discuss services and costs directly."

Nika nodded.

"So finally, a job will be found for you too."

Giorgi laughed.

"Thank you for your concern about my career future."

He left the room. Mari was still busy guiding the clinic.

Elene uploaded a new image of the building's entrance. This time, the image of the sign, the main door, and the building number were completely clear.

Nika said:

"At least if someone mistakenly goes to the clothing store again, they'll understand they need to turn back."

Mari muttered:

"I hope with this photo, no one goes there anymore."

Elene added a few main services of the clinic. Then she opened a short article she had previously written for social media. The title of the article was:

"Five Important Tips Before Visiting for Teeth Cleaning"

She asked:

"Can I put this here too?"

"Yes. Of course, it's better if the text is accurate and suitable for the site; especially medical information must be correct and reliable."

Alna agreed:

"That's good. I'll review it myself."

Mari added:

"The more complete, accurate, and up-to-date the page information is, the more useful it will be for those looking for your services."

Alna thought for a moment.

"I still don't quite understand one thing. This page is on Rigi24. So only someone who has the direct address can find it?"

"No. Your business can also be seen in the public section of Rigi24's business listings. This means that anyone searching for a clinic or a service within this system can find related businesses."

Alna asked:

"So customers of other businesses might see my page too?"

"Yes. Rigi24 is not just a collection of separate panels. The public section of the system can connect businesses and individuals looking for various services."

Alna pulled her chair forward.

"This is interesting."

Mari continued:

"Imagine someone enters Rigi24 for another service. Then they need dental care and are looking for a clinic. That person can also get to know your business. Just as your customers might use services from other businesses."

Alna said:

"So my page is not just a static sign. It is part of a larger collection."

"Exactly."

Nika turned to Mari.

"So it's like all businesses have shops in a virtual city?"

Mari said:

"Almost. Just better not to use the word shop for a dental clinic."

When does Google find out?

Alna was busy reviewing the page for a while. Then she asked another question.

"So if someone searches for a dentist on Google, will they find my clinic too?"

Mari replied:

"Rigi24 public pages are also designed to be visible in search engines. The structure of the page, business information, titles, and the content you publish can help the page be found."

Alna said:

"So from tomorrow we will be first on Google?"

Nika opened his mouth to speak, but Mari answered first.

"No, such a promise is not correct."

Alna laughed.

"It's good that at least you're being honest."

Mari continued:

"When Google reviews and indexes a page and where it shows up depends on various factors. No one should guarantee a specific ranking just by creating a page."

"So what's the point of the articles?"

"When you publish accurate and useful content about your services and related topics, you help the client and provide more information to search engines. Of course, this needs to be continuous and of high quality."

Elene said:

"So I need to take care of it like a real website."

"Yes. The difference is that you don't have to pay for the design and hosting of an independent website to set up and maintain this foundational section."

Nika looked at the page. The clinic's dedicated address was under the main subdomain of Rigi24.

He said:

"So a small business can start its online presence right from here, without having to pay for an independent website from day one."

Mari nodded.

"Exactly. Of course, every business may later find more complex needs, but for professional introduction, publishing information, and starting an online presence, Core can be very helpful."

Elene said:

"So the first article I will post will be this: Why should we have our teeth checked every six months."

Nika involuntarily ran his tongue over his teeth.

Mari noticed.

"When was the last time you went to the dentist?"

Nika looked up at the ceiling.

"Is this question legally binding?"

"Nika!"

"Well... it depends on what year you mean by the last time I went."

From the phone, Dr. Elene's laughter rang out.

The language the user selects

It was getting close to eleven-thirty. Elene had almost completed the main information on the page.

She went to the settings section and said:

"There's one more thing. My business partner is foreign. He’s coming to Tbilisi in a few days and is going to help with the management of the clinic. He doesn't know much Georgian."

Mari said:

"No problem. In sections of the system where multiple languages are active, the user can choose their own interface language."

Elene asked:

"So, does he not need to read all the menus in Georgian?"

"No. If his preferred language is among the active languages in that section, he can work with that language."

Nika asked:

"So the panel language can differ from one person to the next?"

Mari turned to him.

"Yes. The goal is for the language not to be a barrier to using the software."

Alena said:

"Is this only for the business introduction page?"

"No. The multilingual aspect relates to the environment of different sections of Rigi24. For example, a foreign manager can manage business settings in their familiar language. Or in a restaurant, staff members with different languages can use an interface that they are more comfortable with; of course, according to the active languages of each section."

Nika remembered the restaurant 'Two Balconies.' The waiters who moved between the tables all day, the calling devices that sometimes ran out of battery, and the customers who waited.

He said:

‘So, for example, if a restaurant has several foreign waiters, they don’t all need to be fluent in Georgian to work with the panel.’

‘That’s right.’

Mari explained that the language of the software environment differs from the content language that the business publishes.

For instance, if Dr. Elene publishes an article in Georgian, simply selecting a different language in the panel does not mean that her medical article is automatically and accurately translated into all languages.

Elene said:

‘This is an important distinction. Because you can't trust incorrect translations when it comes to medical information.’

Mari confirmed.

‘Exactly. Every piece of content must be prepared and published with the necessary accuracy.’

Nika wrote in his notebook:

‘Being multilingual is for the convenience of the system user, not a miracle of translation.’

Mari looked at her writing.

"You wrote this one well too."

Nika smiled.

"I'm making progress."

The number that still lived in the past

Around noon, Mari asked the doctor to review the page information once more.

Elene was tired.

"I've worked more on the computer today than I have all week."

"Just a few more minutes. It's better to have all the main information correct before you introduce the page to the patients."

Nika was busy checking the public version of the page.

The image of the new building was correct. The address was also registered correctly. The working hours matched the information the doctor had provided. The title of services was clear.

But when her eyes fell on the phone number, she paused.

The number displayed on the page was different from the number that Elene had called from. At first, she thought she was mistaken. She compared the two numbers again.

It wasn't just one digit different. Several digits were different.

She said softly:

"Mari, hold on a second."

Mari moved the phone slightly away from her ear.

"What's wrong?"

Nika pointed to the screen.

"Is this phone number that's registered the same one that the doctor is currently talking with?"

Mari checked the information.

Then she asked the doctor:

"Excuse me, is the number you entered to contact the clinic still active?"

Elene said:

"Yes, I think so."

"Could you please read the number one more time?"

Alena read the number.

Mari asked:

"And the new reception number?"

There was a few seconds of silence.

Then the doctor's voice rose:

"Wow!"

Nika hid his smile.

Alena continued:

"I entered the phone number of the previous office! That line has been disconnected for a few months."

Mari said:

"It's okay. We'll fix it right now."

Lika laughed.

"We wanted to solve the old address issue; we were close to resurrecting the old number again."

Nika said:

"This one wasn't even the internet's fault."

Mari said with a smile:

"And that's why information needs to be verified before publication."

The number was corrected. Nika checked it again. To be sure, they made a test call.

This time, the clinic's reception phone rang.

Tamta answered.

"Dr. Glashvili's clinic, how may I help you?"

Nika said:

Hello. I just wanted to make sure you are still a dental clinic.

Tamta laughed.

Yes, for now we haven't decided to open a clothing store.

Nika looked at Mari.

Apparently, our joke arrived at the clinic before the software did.

Something that is not free

After the review was over, Dr. Elene asked:

One more question. Now that we have this page, can we also keep the patient list here? Can we send them promotional messages or categorize them?

Mari said:

The free introduction section is different from the customer management and marketing features. For these tasks, we need to see which module or separate service fits your needs.

Elene asked:

So those features are free too?

"Not necessarily. Core is free, but optional modules and some consumable services may incur costs. The terms and prices must be specified before activation."

"For example, sending SMS?"

"The cost and terms for SMS are reviewed separately. The free nature of Core does not mean that bulk SMS sending is free."

Elene said:

"That's good. I prefer to know from the beginning what is free and what is not."

Mari replied:

"That's the goal. You can just use the introduction page. If you need booking, CRM, or other features later, you can decide about them then."

Nika asked:

"So they can choose one and not the others?"

Mari said:

"Yes. There's no need for anyone to take all the modules together."

Elene said from the phone:

"I only want this page for now. If it works well, I'll look into other features later."

Nika said:

"Then you are officially the owner of an online clinic starting today."

Elene laughed.

"No, my dear. I am the owner of that real clinic. I just hope the internet finally finds it."

A correct address, two different issues

In the afternoon, Lika and Vakhtang returned to the clinic for a check-up. This time they had gotten the address directly from the reception.

When Vakhtang entered, he looked around the hall for a moment.

"Ah, this one really looks like a dental clinic."

Dr. Elene came out of the room and greeted them.

Lika said:

"I'm sorry for being a bit angry this morning."

The doctor replied:

“You were right to be upset. We should have sent you the correct address when scheduling the appointment.”

Vakhtang sat down on one of the chairs.

“I only have one bad tooth. But today I realized we have a wrong address too.”

The doctor smiled.

“Actually, we did something important about this topic today.”

He opened the clinic's new page on his phone. The name, address, working hours, and images of the building were visible on the page.

Lika looked closely.

“Is this your own site?”

“It’s the clinic’s dedicated page on Rigi24. We just launched it.”

Lika asked:

“So that old address has been removed from Google?”

Alna paused. Now she knew exactly what to say.

"No, not yet. That old information exists on several different sites and we need to fix them separately. This new page will help ensure accurate and up-to-date information is available, but it won't erase all the old internet mistakes overnight."

Lika nodded.

"Then it's better to send the link to this page to the patients who are booking appointments."

Alna smiled.

"That's exactly the decision we made."

Vakhtang looked at his phone.

"Can you send this to me too?"

Lika said in surprise:

"Dad, you usually don't open links."

"That's why I want to have it."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure the doctor is still there before I leave the house next time."

The small city was getting bigger.

It was four twenty in the afternoon.

In the NetCity office, Mari was recording the latest notes related to the clinic. Nika was standing by the window, sipping fresh tea.

"Mari, something."

"Go ahead."

"This morning I thought we were creating a page for a clinic. But now I feel like it's a bigger deal."

Mari looked at him from behind the monitor.

"How so?"

"Well, before, every business had to build a website, advertise, put their address everywhere, and hope someone would find them."

"Proper introduction and advertising are still important."

"I know. But here, in addition to everyone having their own page, they are also part of a larger collection."

Mari smiled.

"That's right. A business can establish its initial and professional presence without purchasing a paid module. Then users of the system can find various businesses, view their information, and use their services."

Nika said:

"So someone might come to book a hair salon, and then look for a clinic for dentistry afterward."

Mari laughed.

"I hope no one who just came from the hair salon gets a toothache!"

Nika continued:

"Or an international manager might come and register their business without knowing the Georgian language. Then each of their employees can use the relevant sections in their familiar language."

"If that language is activated in the relevant section, yes."

"And if they want more features, they can choose. It's not mandatory."

Mari nodded.

"Now you've understood the main point."

Nika looked at the monitor. Dr. Glashvili's clinic page was open. The image of the new building, the first article, services, and contact methods were neatly displayed.

He said:

“All of this started from a wrong address.”

Mari said:

“No. It started when someone decided to solve their problem correctly.”

On the other side of the room, Morteza was sitting at his desk. He had heard several work calls and the conversation between Mari and Nika since morning, but he had spent most of his time programming.

Nika looked at him.

“A technical question.”

Morteza, without taking his eyes off the monitor, said:

“Ask.”

“With all these pages increasing, doesn’t managing them all become difficult?”

Morteza thought for a moment.

For someone who builds the system, each new section has its own responsibilities. But for the business owner, it should remain as simple as possible. Otherwise, its advantage disappears.

Nika said:

So, the complexity should stay behind the scenes?

Morteza nodded.

Exactly.

Then he got back to work.

Nika quietly said to Mari:

This guy, whenever he speaks, it’s like he knows my next question too.

Mari gave a short smile.

Maybe because you usually ask the next question very late.

Nika made a mock frown.

You two have united against me.

Five minutes before the end of the day

It was five fifty-five.

Mari had packed her bag. Nika was sipping the last drop of his cold tea, and Giorgi was organizing his notes for the next day's meeting.

It seemed like a calm day.

There was no news of shift conflicts. No elevator that had resurfaced in the office after years. No waiter searching among the tables for a lost calling device. And no two customers needing a hairstylist for an hour.

Mari smiled.

"Finally, we had a relatively calm day."

Nika immediately said:

"You shouldn't say that out loud."

"Why?"

"Because in movies, whenever someone says that, something strange happens five seconds later."

Mari laughed.

"This is a software office, not a movie."

At that moment, the phone rang.

Nika looked at the clock. Five fifty-six.

With a serious expression, he said:

"Did you see?"

Mari picked up the phone.

"NetCity, how can I help you?"

A woman's voice was heard from the other side.

"Hello Mari dear. This is Tamar. I'm calling from the school."

Mari's smile faded. She remembered Tamar's name. The same principal who had called a few days ago about Saba's strange absences. The same incident that had involved Saba's friend, Dato, and the missing money from the school book fair.

Mari sat up straight.

"Hello Ms. Tamar. How are the kids?"

"Yes, the kids are good. But there's a topic that has come up, and I don't know where to start."

Nika put his cup down on the table upon hearing the name of the school.

Tamta continued:

"Do you remember that blue envelope?"

Mari said:

"The one that Saba and Dato were looking for?"

"Yes."

"Has it been found?"

"It has been found."

Mari let out a sigh of relief.

"That's great! Then the misunderstanding will probably be cleared up."

But Tamta said nothing. A few seconds of silence followed.

Then he said softly:

"Unfortunately not."

Mari asked:

"Why?"

Tamta replied:

"There were several receipts and a book purchase invoice in the envelope. Saba thought these documents proved that Dato hadn't taken the money."

"Well?"

"We contacted the store whose name is on one of the invoices."

The sound of paper rustling was heard from the other end of the phone.

"The seller says they didn't issue such an invoice."

Mari looked at Nika. Nika silently asked:

"What happened?"

Mari gestured to wait.

Tamta continued:

"Even the invoice number is not found in the store records."

Mari asked:

"Could they have entered the number incorrectly?"

"I don't know. But the strange thing is that Saba insists he got the invoice himself from that store."

Nika pulled his chair forward.

Mari quietly asked:

"Ms. Tamta, do you have the original invoice with you right now?"

"Yes."

"Can you send a picture of it?"

"I'll send it right now."

A moment later, Mari's phone received a new message. It was an image of a paper invoice. The name of the store was visible at the top. Several book titles, the amount paid, and the invoice number were written below. In the bottom corner of the paper, there was a blue stain; it looked like it had been inside that envelope for a while.

Mari enlarged the image. Nika stood next to her.

"What is this?"

Mari said:

"The continuation of the story of Saba and Dato."

Nika looked carefully at the photo.

"So, is the invoice fake?"

"We don't know yet."

Morteza asked from across the room:

"What's the problem?"

Mari said:

"The school says a book purchase invoice has been found, but the seller doesn't confirm its authenticity."

Morteza looked at them for a moment.

"First, make sure both sides are talking about the same document. Check the original document, number, date, and seller's details. You can't draw conclusions from just a picture."

Mari said:

"That's right."

Nika was still staring at the photo. A few seconds later, he placed his finger on the screen.

"Mari... wait a moment."

"What's wrong?"

"Look at this date."

Mari zoomed in on the image.

The printed date in the corner of the invoice was from that very day.

Friday.

But the school book fair had taken place a few days earlier.

Nika said calmly:

«If this invoice is related to purchases from that day...»,

Mari finished her sentence:

«...why is the date today?»,

None of them had an answer.

From the phone, Tamar asked with concern:

«Mari dear, did you get the receipt image?»,

Mari said:

«Yes, I got the receipt.»,

«Did anything become clear?»,

Mari looked at the date again.

«Not yet. But I think we need to examine it more carefully.»

Nika pushed his chair back. His cold tea was still on the table. It showed six o'clock.

He said quietly:

"I told you not to say today is a calm day."

But this time Mari didn't laugh.

Because now there was a more important question:

If the invoice was real, why didn't the seller recognize it?

And if it wasn't real, who had put it in the blue envelope?

End of Chapter Six

Continued in Chapter Seven: "The Invoice That No One Issued"