Episode 5: Between Skyscrapers and Embraces

“Under the microscope, the world was logical. Crystals didn’t lie. They had a clear structure, predictable fractures, and a pure beauty.”

— Magma Star

My workday began in the elevator of a building on Georgia Street, right in the heart of Vancouver. Every morning, ascending to the 14th floor, I felt the pressure of my family problems shrink. Surrounded by people of high intelligence, in that modern tower of glass and steel, I found my peace. My laboratory was my temple, my meditation.

As I analyzed diamond samples from the north, I escaped the reality waiting for me at home. I loved my colleagues, I loved that intellectual stimulation—it reminded me that I, Sanja, was much more than a betrayed woman. I was an expert, an engineer, someone who sees what others do not notice.

And then, after eight hours of silence and focus, came the most beautiful part of the day: returning to my sons.

I was tired, my legs ached, but the moment I hugged and kissed them erased any erosion of the soul. We played, we learned, and every evening, without exception, I bathed them. It was our ritual of cleansing from everything external. I provided everything for them. I took out a mortgage, bought a house—each of them had their own room, their safe corner.

Watching them sleep, I knew that I was the foundation holding the roof over their heads. My marriage may have been “pyrite,” but my relationship with my children and my work were pure quartz—transparent, strong, and capable of transmitting energy.

I lived two lives: one in the clouds of Vancouver, among crystals, and the other on the ground, in the warmth of children’s bedrooms. I was the architect of their happiness, even while I was still searching for my own under the lens of a microscope.