"You're late."
Helen's voice sliced through the heavy silence, her golden eyes sharp with suspicion.
Lyra hesitated at the threshold, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs.
She had practiced this moment in her mind a hundred times, but standing here….under the cold scrutiny of Helen and Layla….her carefully woven lie felt like it was unraveling before she even spoke.
Layla sat sprawled on the velvet chaise, swirling a glass of dark wine between her fingers, amusement curling her lips. "She finally decides to crawl back, after disappearing like a coward."
Helen folded her arms, stepping forward. "Where the hell have you been?"
Lyra forced herself to meet her gaze. "Haelyn had me."
The amusement drained from Layla's face.
Helen's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"She captured me," Lyra continued, voice tight. "Kept me locked away for months, trying to break me, to turn me against you."
Layla clicked her tongue. "And yet, here you are. A survivor, aren't you?"
Lyra swallowed.
