Lyra
After Evelyn left, I sat down and let out a long, shuddering breath.
Was it really my fault? Could it really be true what she had screamed at me? That all of this...Elizabeth’s death, the chaos, the pain...they were somehow my fault?
Doubt crept in.
“But how is it my fault? How is—“
A hand resting on my shoulder stopped my musings. Looking up, I saw Caine.
“Nothing is your fault,” he had heard me. “Don’t let that woman’s words get to you. Okay?”
I wanted to say yes, to believe him, but a tiny voice inside whispered that maybe Evelyn had been right. I hugged myself, trying to hold back fresh tears.
“But she might be right.”
“She isn’t. She’s grieving, as are you. She’s not thinking straight. None of what happened is your fault.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“Good girl. Now wipe those
