Lyra
I could not stop thinking about the injured man.
Standing in this bright hall, surrounded by laughter, expensive perfumes, sparkling wines, and clinking glasses, all I saw was the garden. The darkness. The blood trail I’d followed to him and what happened after.
Randall.
His name echoed in my mind, but something else that also echoed was our last conversation before Liam had come looking for me.
‘How about you do something for me?’ He’d asked.
‘What is that?’ I’d replied.
‘You won’t tell anyone you saw me.’
I remember staring at him, my breath catching in my throat at the way he sounded. For someone smiling, someone who’d wanted me to do something for him, this wasn’t it. He wasn’t asking. He was insisting.
‘If you do that, I’ll immensely repay you.’
Before I could reply, Li
