The seller and the buyer had become openly hostile toward one another. Their disputes concerned not only the price of the apartment but also the documents, which contained several details that troubled the buyer. The deal seemed to be on the verge of falling apart. The head of the real estate agency was growing nervous. His attempts to bring the situation under control were proving unsuccessful.

“Why is Deinska taking so long?” he asked his secretary.

“Well ... you know how she is. I called her half an hour ago. She said she’d arrive within fifteen minutes. Shall I call her again?”

“Yes, call her!” he insisted, while the clients continued arguing.

Just as the secretary began dialing the number, the office door opened. Attorney Lina Deinska appeared in the doorway. She smiled, apologized for being late, and then hurriedly pushed her wheelchair forward. Slightly out of breath, she stopped in the space that had been cleared especially for her. The clients looked at her with concealed curiosity. She was not the kind of lawyer they had expected.

Thirty-two-year-old Deinska, as usual, was dressed in a stylish black blazer over a white shirt, a black knee-length skirt, a long black stocking, and an elegant black low-heeled shoe on her right foot. Her left leg was in a cast and rested outstretched on the wheelchair’s folding leg support. The front part of her foot—its toes meticulously pedicured—remained exposed, as though to make it clear that the limb still existed. The woman held her chest slightly forward because an orthopedic brace was keeping her spine properly aligned. It was obvious that beneath the cotton shirt there was a metal support frame. Her chin rested on a foam pad, creating the impression that she was holding her head arrogantly high.

Deinska darted her eyes left and right to examine those present, since she could barely move her head. Then, with a charming smile, she announced:

“I’ve reviewed the documents. There’s nothing to be concerned about. There’s no obstacle to completing the transaction.”

“But the mortgage...” the buyer began.

“I checked that as well. The mortgage dates back to 1933. There’s no way the loan was never repaid, because otherwise the bank would have foreclosed on the property long ago. Naturally, that bank no longer exists, so the mortgage cannot be formally removed from the records. In practice, however, there is no encumbrance on the property. You can proceed with confidence.”