Chapter 12
The Whistleblower's Plea
Elena contacts Lina anonymously, arranging a clandestine meeting. She's terrified but determined to do the right thing, driven by her principles and fear for the citizens.
The flickering fluorescent lights of the Jurbarko Laikraštis office cast long, dancing shadows across Lina’s desk. It was late, the kind of late where the only sounds were the hum of the ancient refrigerator in the break room and the distant rumble of a passing truck. The air, thick with the scent of stale coffee and ink, felt heavy with unspoken secrets. Lina traced the edge of the sodra cipher with her finger, the strange symbols a constant, tantalizing puzzle. She knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her gut, that this was more than just a misplaced decimal or a bureaucratic error. This was a story, a big one, and it was pulling her deeper into its intricate web.
Her phone, a bulky, beige relic that felt like a relic from another century, buzzed on the desk. A muffled ringtone, a tinny rendition of a folk song, startled her. She snatched it up, her heart giving a little leap of apprehension. The voice on the other end was a whisper, raspy and strained, like dry leaves skittering across pavement.
"Petraitytė?" the voice breathed, barely audible.
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