Episode 51

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to mock Anya’s vibrant spirit. Even in her weakened state, a flicker of her former fire ignited in her eyes as Dmitri squeezed her hand. Nickola stood a little distance away, his usual boisterous energy subdued, his gaze fixed on the faint rise and fall of her chest. The ordeal had left its mark, a shadow that clung to her like the scent of the damp, forgotten theatre where she’d been held.

“Anya,” Dmitri’s voice was thick with emotion, a raw plea for her to reassure him. “Are you… are you truly all right?”

She managed a weak smile, the movement pulling at the stitches on her lip. “As all right as one can be after a rather… extended rehearsal, brother.” Her attempt at levity was met with a shared, albeit strained, chuckle. “The note,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, “it was Kirov. He orchestrated it all. He was using the theatre’s finances, siphoning off funds for… for something terrible. I overheard him. I saw the ledgers.”