They said nothing more as they made their way back to the chambers. The halls were quiet, and Penny didn't dare break the silence again.
Once inside, Lyra paused only for a second before moving to the windowsill—the same place she stood earlier, where this all began.
Miranda's words clung to her like a second skin. They weren't just disturbing—they were poisonous.
She'd said enough to crack open the truth… but not enough to let the light fully in. She mocked her. Toyed with her confusion. She hinted at the truth—of power, of bloodlines, of betrayal—but never named the one behind it.
And that, Lyra realized, was intentional.
Miranda knew who had silenced her. Who had suppressed her power. Who had manipulated her into growing up as a fragile, wolfless ghost in a world where she might have been something else—something more.
But she didn't reveal it.
She just left Lyra dangling on a thread of doubt, her mind storming with half-truths and fragmented memories.
