Lyra
The ride home was quiet, the kind of quiet that pressed in on the ears until even breathing sounded loud. I sat with my hands in my lap and my eyes on the window, watching the trees pass without really seeing any of it. Neither Randall nor Caine pushed me to talk, and somehow that made me feel worse because I was left alone with my thoughts and the weight of what was coming.
We arrived at the estate, and I wasted no time going straight to my room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, my breath uneven as the silence wrapped around me.
It was too much.
All of it was too much.
I pushed myself off the door and walked further into the room, my hands dragging over my face as I tried to think, tried to plan, tried to feel anything other than this tight, suffocating pressure
