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CHAPTER VI. Coming home
In the shadowed halls of the Red Room, time had taken on a sluggish quality, the hours stretching into an agonizing eternity as Elina's week-long deadline approached. Each day was a reminder of the weight that hung over her, a noose tightening with every tick of the clock. Sleep eluded her, chased away by the ever-present image of Natasha's face—those green eyes that had once been filled with sisterly affection, now haunted by betrayal. The memory of her sister's duplicity gnawed at her, leaving raw wounds that refused to heal.
On the morning of the seventh day, a cold, biting wind swept through the facility, and the sky above Novosibirsk was a washed-out grey, the sun's warmth lost to the bitter chill. Elina felt it in her bones, a forewarning of what was to come. She walked with purpose down the long corridor, her footsteps echoing off the concrete walls as she made her way to Ms. Smirnova's office. The world around her seemed to blur, fading into the background as her focus narrowed to a single point—her confession, her plea.
The door to Ms. Smirnova's office loomed before her, a heavy slab of wood that seemed to pulse with the secrets it guarded. Elina's hand trembled as she reached for the handle, pausing just long enough to steady herself. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, her gaze immediately locking onto the steely-eyed woman seated behind the imposing desk.
Ms. Smirnova glanced up from the papers scattered before her, her expression unreadable, though a flicker of curiosity passed behind her eyes. "Anhelina," she said, her voice as cool and precise as ever. "What brings you here?"
Elina's throat tightened, and for a moment, she struggled to find her voice. The words felt like jagged glass lodged in her chest, each one a struggle to push past the barriers of doubt and fear. But there was no turning back now; she had made her decision, and she would see it through.
"I have information," Elina began, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced herself to stand taller, to meet Ms. Smirnova's gaze head-on. "About the attack on Dreykov. It wasn't my fault. It was Natasha."
Ms. Smirnova's eyes sharpened at the name, her brows knitting together in a frown. "Natasha?" she repeated, the word heavy with disbelief. "You're certain of this?"
Elina nodded, the motion stiff, her heart hammering in her chest. "Yes. I've been... thinking about it, replaying everything over and over. And I know it was her. She's been working against us, and she's the one responsible for what happened to Dreykov and his daughter."
A silence settled over the room, thick and oppressive. Ms. Smirnova leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled beneath her chin as she regarded Elina with an intensity that made her feel as though she were being dissected, her every thought and emotion laid bare.
