Aniya was standing in front of the Hunters’ building on the opposite sidewalk. Dressed in tight dark leggings, a white t-shirt and sneakers, she was frowning, lost in deep thoughts. The day arrived, and she was nervous.   Next to her, Nick was dressed in a dark blue tracksuit and dark sneakers. He glanced at her and said, “It seems everyone is ready. What do you think?”   Aniya took a hairband from her wrist and tied her hair in a high ponytail. She looked left and right and saw the street cut off by

Davis parked the limousine in front of the company’s building and opened the door for Aniya. A path was open for her, granted by her security men, who were making sure she could enter the building without being disturbed by the crowd of reporters that kept on asking questions about why she called for a press conference and why she hadn’t made a public statement regarding the death of her father, the attack on her mother, and the deaths of her friends. Aniya fixed the position of her sunglasses, checked her knee-length white dress for wrinkles, and walked straight to the entrance, not even bothering to answer. The reporters she wanted to talk to were already inside, according to the message that Anna Kent sent her, meaning that the ones outside were