When I was 38 years old, I exchanged passports with a twenty-two-year-old girl. She gave away her name, her higher education diploma, her past – everything, everything! - in order to be considered young again. I look great because all my money is spent on tuning, my young husband adores me. But instead of enjoying all this, I constantly feel guilty for this deception, afraid of the future, which sooner or later will reveal my secrets... I don’t understand: am I happy? And I would never have understood if it weren’t for the shocking statement that my husband made to me one fine day...