Lydia sat on her bed, her body leaning against the pillows, but her mind was far from resting. Her eyes stared blankly at the wall, though she was not truly looking at it. It was as if her gaze had gone through the wall and out into nothingness. Her heart felt heavy, and her head kept repeating the same thought like a cruel chant.
"I can't let anyone find out. Not now. If they do, everything will be ruined."
Her fingers twisted the sheets tightly as she whispered those words in her head again and again. It was not fear alone that pressed on her chest, but anger, pain, and the sharp memory of all that had been taken from her.
Then, suddenly, there was a knock on her door. The sound pulled her out of her thoughts. For a moment, she did not answer. Her throat felt dry. But finally, with a calm voice that hid her storm inside, she said, "Come in."
The door opened, and three figures stepped in quietly. Alexander. Elena. Anya.
