Jake didn’t want to go to Sunday dinner at his parents’ house, but he couldn’t come up with a decent excuse to get out of it. He would have much rather stayed at the packhouse with Lyra. He’d spent the afternoon working in his office while she lay stretched out on the couch, poring over her mother’s journals. Having her nearby had relaxed him. He liked being able to talk to her whenever a thought popped into his head, even if most of the time she only hummed in response.
He had managed to convince her to stay another night at the packhouse, though she flatly refused to join him for dinner. Her argument was simple. It would only stir up more tension. He didn’t disagree, not really, but he hadn’t pushed. Instead, when they dropped Donovan off, he’d convinced her to pack a few more things an
