When Anastasia was little, she used to lay outside in the palace gardens and reached her hands up to the sky above. She was convinced she could touch the great moving clouds if she just extended her arms just a little further.

Tinka never got to to that. She didn’t have the privilege to have childlike wonder like her older sister did.

She grew up in a war she never wanted to be apart of.

Tinka had to learn quicker, mature faster.

She became a pawn in the war.

Tinka did get one thing that her sister never got—true freedom.

Death.