اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Anastasia sat cross-legged on her pink velvet sofa in her quaint house tucked slightly north of Dallas, watching the news with a bowl of Lucky Charms on her lap. She lived next to the farming community. It was peaceful away from people who either adored her or looked for any reason to drive her out. Luckily, no one knew where she lived, so they couldn't circle her like vultures. This was the only time she could be herself. To quiet her nerves, Anastasia distracted herself with reading and whatever bullshit was on the television.
Anastasia squinted at the news displaying brightly, wondering if her vision was finally going and leaning towards the screen, nearly spilling her cereal all over the fluffy, blush-colored rug. The face of a shaggy-haired man with a beard flashed across the screen.
WANTED: DIEGO HARGREEVES DANGEROUS AND ARMED
Anastasia scoffed and shook her head, sending her ginger locks into her bowl. "Hargreeves?" she mumbled to herself in disbelief, taking a giant bite of her cereal. "Shit, are they all crazy?"
The black-and-white image of a woman with choppy baby bangs and large, dark, buggy eyes flashed next to Diego's picture. Her identity was unknown, which Anastasia didn't care much about, but something about the woman felt familiar like she had presented in a dream.
No one knew who Anastasia really was, either. Over a hundred years of false identities, she became the master of disguise. Anastasia counted her lucky stars that cameras in the 1910s weren't as good as they had recently become, but she cursed her teenage self for having an insatiable thirst for the spotlight.
As the decades evolved, so did the grand duchess. It was easy to blend in if she looked like everyone else. When she was forced to retire in Dallas, Anastasia became a '60s dreamgirl overnight. If she was going to live in this era, she figured she would make the most of it and make a name for herself that wasn't hers, like she was giving the Commission the middle finger.
