Lyra’s POV
The air inside the International Hospital was cold—too cold. The white fluorescent lights hummed faintly above me as I sat on the hard plastic seat near the reception, my fingers curling tightly around the hem of my gown. Rafi sat beside me, flipping through a magazine she wasn’t reading. Her presence calmed me. She’s been the only one by my side lately. The only one who didn’t look at me with pity or guilt in their eyes.
But still, even her comfort couldn’t stop my leg from bouncing nervously.
It had been over an hour.
I shifted in my seat for the third time in five minutes and glanced toward the entrance. Nothing. No sign of Lucian. No sign of Lillian.
I inhaled sharply and let the breath out slowly. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he ran away with her. Maybe he’s scared
