Annakel
The decision doesn’t feel like a decision.
It feels like stepping into cold water and pretending you chose the temperature.
Jonah clears a space on the dining table like he’s preparing for surgery. Papers. Pens. A tablet for identity verification. Two secure phones placed face down like they might bite.
Inessa brings a small tray with water and something sweet Annakel can’t imagine swallowing. Viktor stands near the corridor, half-present, listening to feeds.
Edmund sits rigidly on the sofa, hands clasped, eyes fixed on the documents like they’re the instrument of his failure.
Alexander remains standing.
He watches Annakel with the same calm intensity he used in the lobby. Like he’s not going to let her disappear into panic.
Annakel stares at the papers, throat tight. “This
