The Korolevsky Theater had become a prison of sorts. For the past two or three days, everyone had been trapped inside while the relentless snowstorm continued outside. The streets were buried beneath snow, the wind constantly rattled the windows, and after four mysterious deaths, nobody was willing to risk leaving.

Alyosha stood on the stage during the latest briefing with Shram, Aether, Odette, Vodyanitsa, Tonia, Valeriy, Mitya, Chugunov, and Guest. Shram was going over everything they knew about the deaths, but Alyosha’s attention kept drifting toward Guest.

He had been watching Guest closely for the past few days.

Something wasn’t right.

At first, Alyosha assumed Guest was simply exhausted. Everyone was tired and stressed from being trapped inside, after all. But Guest’s exhaustion seemed different. Every so often, he would become unusually quiet, his expression tightening as though he suddenly felt nauseous. Sometimes he’d subtly turn away from everyone, take a slow breath, and wait for the feeling to pass.

Then there was his coat.

Guest hadn’t taken it off once.

Even inside the theater, where it was considerably warmer than outside, he kept it wrapped around himself. Alyosha had noticed him occasionally pulling it tighter whenever he seemed uncomfortable.

That wasn’t like Guest.

Alyosha knew him well enough to recognize when something was wrong, even if Guest was doing an excellent job pretending otherwise.