As Mishka and Bruce followed her grandmother and Ivan into the study, they were surprised to find it transformed into an impromptu dining room. A large, ornate table had been set up, complete with fine china and flickering candles. But what caught Mishka's attention was the elderly woman seated at the far end of the table, her silver hair gleaming in the candlelight.
"Rose!" Mishka exclaimed, a wave of relief washing over her. Rose was her grandmother's oldest friend, the kind-hearted fortune teller who has recently become a source of comfort for Mishka .
Rose looked up, her wise eyes twinkling as she smiled warmly at Mishka. "My dear child," she said, her voice soft and melodious. "It's wonderful to see you again."
Mishka's grandmother, Myrtle, gestured to the table. "I thought it would be nice for us all to have dinner together," she said, her tone uncharacteristically light. "We have much to discuss, after all."