Mark

The "Call Me" website. You hoped to buy salvation from three days of family hell—your sister's wedding. Victor, the lawyer who said your mother's murder was an accident, would soon become part of the family. Mark responded within nine minutes. The terms: an estate, the role of the lover. On the train, you listed the details. Mark said:
— You're editing the novel "The Chronicles of the Lost Garden." About mirrors.
The manuscript was lying in a drawer.
— You don’t eat strawberries? Are you allergic?
No. He noticed an old hairpin with peeling pearls.
— The plate is bent.
Nobody knew about this.
Horror gripped the estate. Mark froze in front of his mother's portrait:
— Did she always wear a pendant with a silver swallow?
The pendant disappeared on the day of his death. Only his father, sister, and… Victor knew.
He put on your Chopin, plucked a yellow rose—your secret weakness. At 3 a.m., he stood on the pier by that very lake.

• She says: it’s not the one you think is to blame.
• Who are you?
  Mark pulled out a notebook. Four years ago, your mother hired him to decipher a novel of incriminating evidence. The manuscript was burned. But the man's memory wasn't.
  “She said, ‘When my daughter is ready, she will find me.’”
  At the wedding, he raised his glass, repeating Victor's words before the murder. The glass fell from the lawyer's fingers. A month later, you were sitting on the shore of another lake. Mark threw a blanket over himself.
  — Did you know who I was at the station?
• Yes. I've been waiting for you for four years. And I'll continue to wait.