Since leaving Cloudglow Manor, fear had become the silent tenant of Ksenia's life. She woke frequently in the middle of the night, her forehead slick with a cold, sticky sweat.
Compulsively, she would check every message on every social media platform, ensuring no "invitation from a nightmare" had arrived before she dared to close her eyes again.
"What's wrong?" Through a haze of sleep, Henry caught her arm, his fingers sliding down to her palm and interlocking with hers. "You've been waking up every night lately."
"Just some existential anxiety," Ksenia whispered.
"Anxiety about what?"
She was silent for a beat. "I can't dance right now. Even though I'll recover, retirement will come eventually. I can't help but wonder what I'll do when I can no longer dance. What about you? What would you do?"
"I'd probably end up working at my uncle's company," Henry said softly. "That's always been their plan."
"Don't you have something you want to do?"
"Hmm... If you fall in love with me, I'd want us to get married. Have a few kids. Spend my days taking care of them, taking them places."
"I forgot you're someone who doesn't have to worry about survival." Ksenia pulled her hand away and turned her back to him, creating a cold distance.
"I do worry," Henry said to the back of her head. "I went through the same brutal selection process as you. I'm afraid of being cut from the company, too. I fear the critics' reviews. I don't want to wake up every day to face words, numbers, and spreadsheets I have no interest in."
It had been several days since the manor, and between her fragile mental state and her injury, she hadn't left the apartment. Henry brought her whatever she needed. She spent her days watching one tear-jerker film after another, finding a strange catharsis in the crying.
"How many times have you watched Gone with the Wind now?" Henry asked.
She couldn't say. She just needed something to occupy four hours of her life so her mind wouldn't drift back to Cloudglow Manor.
"Go look at the greenery outside the window; it's better for your eyes," Henry said, sounding like a concerned father. "I'll brew you some tea. What kind do you want?"
He pushed her toward the window, settling her in a wicker hanging chair. She stared at the trees as if it were a chore to "purify" her vision.
"I have a box of sleep-aid tea. It should be next to the green tea," Ksenia said.
"Got it."
She spaced out, her eyes scanning the street below. Suddenly, her gaze caught a corner.
Who was that?
When she looked again, there were only swaying shadows of trees. She retreated into her blanket like a startled bird, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Who was it? Lu Jiting? An agent? Or someone from the Manor?
"What's wrong, Ksenia?" Henry entered the bedroom with the tea.
"I'm just tired." She couldn't tell him she was terrified.
"Resting your eyes is good, too. I'll leave the tea here. Careful, it's hot."
Ksenia turned over and hugged him as he set the cup down. "You smell like a puppy."
"Huh? Do I smell bad?"
"No. It's a comforting smell."
Henry, still concerned, sniffed himself to ensure there was no odd odor. "Well, congratulations, Miss Ksenia. You've achieved your goal—you now have both a cat and a dog."
"I never realized you were so humorous," she said with a faint smile.
"I've always been humorous."
"Isn't it the weekend? Don't stay here on my account. Go out. Didn't your father ask you to play golf?"
Henry groaned. "Golf is so boring. I really don't like it."
"Then what do you like?"
"Horseback riding, skiing, surfing... those are much more interesting."
Such middle-class hobbies, Ksenia thought to herself. "I don't know how to do any of those."
"That's perfect. I can teach you. But what sports do you like?"
Ksenia thought for a moment. "Badminton, billiards, bowling. Actually, I don't like sweating. That sticky feeling is uncomfortable."
Henry made a mental note. "Then you can teach me billiards, and I can teach you riding. You'll love riding—you're so fond of small animals."
Ksenia chuckled. "Small animals? I think a horse qualifies as a large animal."
Living with Henry was subtly changing her. The boundary between a mission and genuine affection was blurring. She didn't know if she chose Henry because she was isolated and helpless, or if she was simply playing a part to complete her task.
After Henry left the room, Ksenia's phone rang. It was an unknown number.
"Hello, Ksenia. This is Christine. We've met before." The voice was as clear and steady as ever.
"What is it, Agent?" Ksenia sat up, listening intently.
"A few days ago, you left Loughton. That wasn't part of our agreement. Where did you go?"
Ksenia had completely forgotten about the travel restriction. She realized then that M-6 was monitoring her. That shadow she saw earlier might have been one of their people.
"My apologies. I received an invitation to a party last night."
"Address. Time."
Ksenia had no idea what the address was, and even if she did, she couldn't say. "I don't know. I'm not very familiar with the areas outside Loughton. That's all I know, Agent."
"If you're hiding something, I can prosecute you," Christine's voice sharpened.
"I'm not hiding anything," Ksenia insisted.
Christine didn't back down, but her tone became earnest. "I want to help you. If someone is threatening or bribing you, you are a victim. You don't have to carry this alone."
If only someone had said that to me years ago, Ksenia thought.
She didn't hate Christine. On the contrary, she envied her justice and her light. As Christine's shadow, Ksenia could only dwell in the dark with her unspeakable secrets, carving her personality into a series of masks.
"Thank you, but I truly don't know the address."
Christine stopped pressing. After three seconds of silence, she added, "If you need help, call me anytime."
The apartment was too quiet, the only sound being the rustle of tires on the pavement outside.
The people she saw at Cloudglow Manor were all masked, but anyone who could use a world-class singer as background music was no ordinary citizen. It was hard to say that the upper echelons of M-6 weren't involved.
Christine... she whispered the name. She pictured the woman's face—beautiful, with stubborn, determined eyes.
Ksenia felt a pang of pity. A lonely agent chasing justice might eventually fall into a nightmare even deeper than her own.
The next afternoon, unable to endure the hollow emptiness of her own thoughts, Ksenia took a cab to the dance studio. Only the studio could bring her peace, but the moment she appeared, the temperature of the room seemed to drop.
The other dancers were whispering. Henry noticed her and froze for a moment before rushing over to lead her back toward the door.
"What's wrong? Just because I'm injured, do I no longer belong here?" Ksenia was bewildered; she only wanted to warm up.
"No, Ksenia, listen to me," Henry said urgently. "Someone has been spreading rumors about you. I'm already looking into who it is. Please, just go home and rest for now, okay?"
"What rumors?"
After a moment of hesitation, Henry spoke. "Word has gotten out that you killed Sam LeBlanc... the former artistic director."
Ksenia felt an internal seismic shift, but her expression remained stoic. It was impossible for any dancer to know that. And technically, she hadn't been the one to do it; she had only found out after the fact.
"I didn't," she said loudly, making sure everyone heard.
"I know you didn't. I'm going to find out who's behind this."
Her gaze turned cold. "You've promised a lot of things. I hope you can actually do them."
She took one last look at the studio filled with dreams and at the crestfallen Henry, then walked out.
West Loughton was always the liveliest area—Walter Gardens, lined with fast-fashion giants, provocative lingerie shops, bars, Chinese restaurants, and theaters. There were white men in suits, crowds of Middle Easterners in hijabs, trendy Chinese students, and groups of stylish girls.
Blending into the crowd, no one cared where Ksenia came from or where she was going. She was just another face in the sea of people.
Until she reached a bar named Paradise.
She couldn't remember how many times she had come here. Whenever she was in trouble, she would tell the bartender she wanted a "Paradise Cocktail"—no ice, swap the whisky for rum.
The bartender would then lead her to a windowless secret room.
"You did well, Ksenia. Not only did you rid the world of a pest and save a suffering woman, but you also liberated the employees he exploited."
The enclosed room didn't bring the darkness of fear, but a profound sense of security. Ksenia said nothing, merely staring at the man with the thick beard sitting before her.
"What do you need help with this time?" the Bearded Man asked.
"Let's not start with that," Ksenia said coldly. "What exactly is Cloudglow Manor? You're pushing me into a furnace."
The man stopped his "good guy" act. "Wasn't this the deal? You complete the missions, and I solve your problems and keep you safe. I've reminded you many times: no questions during a mission."
Ksenia sneered. "Keeping me safe? Does that mean pushing me into a conspiracy group and giving me only this ring to break through hallucinations? Or does it mean making me risk an M-6 investigation by assassinating someone in a theater?"
"So what do you want? Since you're here, something must have happened." He folded his arms, adopting the posture of a superior.
"Watch out for an M-6 agent named Christine. She's already on to me, and she'll likely find you. Also, you need to handle the dance company. Someone is spreading word that I killed Sam LeBlanc. If I get picked up by M-6, the Cloudglow mission stops."
"You really are a magnet for trouble," the man mocked. "Ksenia, there is no shortage of people in this world. Threatening me is foolish. I'll find out who's framing you. But once I do... how do you want to handle them?"
"Recruit them," she said. "Just like you recruited me."
He chuckled. "You really are one of a kind."
As she stepped out of the bar, she walked straight into Lu Jiting.
And standing beside him was Christine.