The fate of a 15-year-old girl skating at the Winter Olympics for a country stripped of its name and competing without its flag because it ran a state-sponsored doping program is being decided in the most modern of Olympic ways.
Not on the ice, to the crescendo of classical music. Not on scorecards hovered over by stern-faced judges. Not while sitting in the "Kiss and Cry" station as prying cameras lurk.
What happens next to Kamila Valieva will unfold in back rooms, decided by adults who pretend to police a global gathering that long ago spun out of control like an iron worker botching a triple axel.
This, however, feels different — or at least it should.
Valieva competes for the Russian Olympic Committee, the scrubbed and shameful moniker assigned to Russia at the Beijing Olympics because of a two-year ban imposed by the World Anti-Doping Agency.
The girl, despite her age, already owns the most raw talent in women's figure skating history. She became the first female skater to land a quad — a jump with four revolutions — in Olympic history. Then she did it again.
That catapulted the ROC to gold in the team event, behind the type of fresh-faced star every Olympics craves.
Then the world spellbound by her ascension learned she failed a December drug test because of a banned heart medication. The reason it took so long to find out? Good question. Why did the bombshell land after the team skate and before the medal ceremony? That's a whopper of a question.
Russian officials can claim the timing was set to implode a gold medal-winning moment on the biggest possible stage to punish an international villain posturing at the Ukrainian border.
Others will paint things in a completely different shade of pastel, saying the absurd timing allowed a cheater to skate. Navigating the tangle of doping agencies and Olympic decision-makers was just one final hurdle, once the performance was on the books.
Either way, a mess of Olympic magnitude.
U.S. Anti-Doping Agency CEO Travis Tygart underscored the impact of the test result mothballed for six weeks.
"The failure to report a test taken in December until after the team event in the Games is a catastrophic failure of the system to protect the public, the integrity of the Games and clean athletes who had to compete," Tygart told Agence France-Presse.
What's lost in the continuing Olympic sport of face-saving, though, is the most abhorrent part.
A 15-year-old girl, no matter the incredible talent and gargantuan stakes, does not find herself facing down the World Anti-Doping Agency because of decisions she made. This isn't a steroids-era MLB player, an adult, slipping some cash to a clubhouse attendant.
If the testing holds up to independent scrutiny and and accidental exposure is ruled out, there's no believable scenario where someone so young on a sports stage so massive acts alone.
The tight universe around elite, Olympic stars includes those who shape the path. They're arbiters of right and wrong. They're the insulation, but in cases like this, can be the kindling as well.
Whomever put such a brilliant career in jeopardy so quickly and fully will never face the stain that follows Valieva. It's her humiliation to wear, not the faceless schemers behind the scenes.
Leveraging someone's talent for the gain of others always is an uncomfortable corner of big-time sports. Doing it to a girl with boundless potential so early in the journey is inexcusable.
Imagine the chaos engulfing Valieva as the women's singles skate looms Tuesday, an event in which she was only cleared to skate Monday on a procedural point. Imagine knowing you're the reason the IOC announced they will not conduct a medal ceremony if you finish in the Top 3?
Now, imagine facing that kind of firestorm at a time when your biggest worry at that age was landing a learner's permit.
International Olympic Committee spokesman Mark Adams told AFP: "It's very important for everyone involved, not least the 15-year-old athlete that is concerned, that we have due process, that it's seen to be done properly and that people can have confidence in the decisions that are taken.
"We are working as fast as we can under the circumstances to get that."
Adams then cut to the heart of things.
"Such cases are not helpful to the Games," he said.
That's the catch-all name for a multibillion-dollar behemoth bloated with the glad-handing monied. The shrapnel of scandals embarrasses more than damages, as it is shouldered by many.
That is nowhere close to the case when it's a teenager, wearing a bull's-eye for an entire nation already facing enough doping shame to cause the Kremlin to quake.
Adults put Valieva's reputation, a gold medal and entire career in the crosshairs to chase win-at-all-costs glory that placates the halls of power. The rump-covering to come will be Olympian, in its own right.
Meanwhile, Valieva's grandchildren never will be able to Google "Valieva" and "scandal" without reliving how the decisions of reprehensible caretakers shook a young, talented life.
That, after all, is the real scandal.
