"We can't just leave her like that!" Dasha exclaimed, breaking free from Viola's grip as we ventured deeper into the forest, seeking refuge from the rain. The sprawling branches of the fir trees wove a dense canopy overhead, droplets lingering greedily on every needle, as if each were trying to quench its thirst before letting anything reach the forest floor.
"After what she did? We most certainly can," Viola countered, moving forward with determined strides. "Come on. This rain isn't stopping anytime soon."
"You don't understand. Tanya's a good person—once you really get to know her. She's just… hurt."
"Hurt over what?" I couldn't help it. I released Stas's hand and turned to Dasha, the bitter taste of resentment rising in my mouth. Why was she defending Tanya again, despite everything Tanya had done? It infuriated me.
"Because… we're together now. Me and Stas," Dasha said softly, almost in a whisper.
"Yes, well…" she added, quieter still, "…and he still matters to her."
Stas rubbed his tired brow and, following my lead, stepped closer to Dasha.
"Dasha," he began carefully, "nothing serious ever happened between Tanya and me. I was honest with her and drew the line from the start. She agreed, and yes, for a while, it was fine."
"She thought that eventually you'd fall for her," Dasha replied, filling in the rest.
Stas shrugged, as if washing his hands of any lingering guilt. "But I didn't. And when I realized Tanya was crossing the line, I ended it. Six months have passed, and as far as I know, she's already with someone else."
"Nikita, yes. I know," Dasha confirmed, and my jaw dropped. How long had something been going on between them? And why, unlike with everyone else, had I noticed the spark between those two only in the pool?
"But you're different for her, you understand? The handsome guy, good family, well-off. She values status."
"Nikita's got that too, at least in Xertonia."
"Yes, but…"
"Dasha, stop defending her," I snapped, unleashing all the grievances I had kept bottled up. "Why do you always take her side and not mine, when she was publicly reading—mind you, publicly—the pages of Stas's personal diary? I would never have done that."
"She's hurt, she's angry, that's why…"
"That's not an excuse!" My voice cracked with indignation. I noticed Kaandor returning, quietly moving along the edge of the forest, head bowed. Wherever he stepped, green stems shot up instantly, and tiny white buds bloomed and withered in seconds, their petals turning brown and nourishing the soil as they fell.
"She had no right to read the diary. She had no right to spread those lies about me. Or have you forgotten that too? Even now, when you were in trouble"—I snapped my fingers on the brim of her cap, stepping almost chest-to-chest with my friend—"Tanya wasn't there. She didn't try to solve the problem. She didn't even try to comfort you. She only cares about herself, as long as she gets enough attention."
"Tanya isn't like that! You don't know her!"
"Do you even know her yourself?" Viola chimed in, and I was glad. In such a short time, she had grown close to Dasha in a way I never had. If anything could counterbalance Dasha's attachment to Tanya, it was the bond she had with Viola. I hoped that if Dasha refused to face the truth, perhaps Viola could get through to her.
"She hides nothing from me," I saw Dasha's face harden for the first time, sharp with anger. "Unlike you."
The forest had fallen into a silence so heavy it felt almost oppressive. Viola's face remained perfectly still, but I knew far too well the storm that raged inside her. There were things we were keeping hidden—especially from Dasha.
"I don't understand what you mean," her voice cut dryly through the air.
"Oh, come on," she said, sweeping her gaze over all of us in turn. "Do you think I don't notice how you all go quiet whenever I come near, as if you're holding something back? How I notice the way you wave your hands constantly, and how doors somehow fling themselves open before you, and that whole thing with the ball during that ridiculous polo game…"
"Dasha, what are you—" Viola tried to interrupt, but the scent of something burning hung in the air. My heart plummeted to my feet with a dull thud.
Dasha had always been clever. Perhaps too clever.
"And you," she pointed at me, ignoring Viola's attempts. "Do you think I haven't noticed how you started to change once you became friends with the Smirnovs? I always knew something was off with that family, but I didn't care. What did it matter to me, a girl from a poor family, what horrors unfold behind the doors of the wealthy? My only concern was surviving—and not getting trampled in the process."
I stayed silent. Oh, how long I stayed silent! I thought that because we were friends, sooner or later one of you would tell me the truth, reveal the secret. But no. Here we are, spending the last days before graduation the same as always: in half-truths and deliberate ignorance of the dark things going on around us.
She didn't yet know, only suspected. She had brushed her fingertips against the tip of the secret, the revelation of which would divide Dasha's life into before and after. And I couldn't do that to her—not to Dasha, who already had her ticket to a bright, beautiful future in her pocket, a future full of opportunities. She had worked for years to claw her way out of darkness into the light, unaware that the truth—real, unflinching truth about Xertonia—would shove her back into the depths, burying her dreams along with it.
She wouldn't back down until we told her everything. And for her own sake, we had to lie. Lie convincingly enough that no questions would remain. But what could I say? How could I twist what Dasha had seen with her own eyes so that she would have no desire to dig further?
I knew the answer. And I hated it.
"What exactly are you implying?" I forced a weak, innocent smile. "That Viola can move things with her mind? Wow, you really overdid it before exams."
Dasha stomped her foot. "I'm not crazy! Don't lie to me."
"I'm not saying you're crazy. It's just stress, Dasha. Right?" My eyes flicked between Stas and Viola, searching for support, but instead they fell suspiciously silent. Stas rubbed his neck wearily, avoiding eye contact, while Viola shifted slightly toward him, as if waiting for something. And I felt like a complete fool. Were they really going to tell her everything? No way.
"Guys, haven't you ever seen things that aren't there, too?" I asked, feigning naivety, but again, nothing. Silence.
"Viola," Dasha walked past me, clearly done listening to my clumsy lies. "Just tell me the truth."
Viola shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were cold, even though the rain had merely quenched the summer heat.
"That's for you to decide, sister," Stas finally said, looking at Viola with a mixture of sympathy and authority. For the first time, I saw uncertainty and hesitation in Viola. She bit her lower lip nervously.
"If you want my advice," Stas's dark, familiar gaze turned on me, igniting a fire inside, "I haven't regretted it for a single second."