AZALEA'S POV
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Mave stares at me, and then at Lyra, then back at me, his eyes bouncing between us like a ball. "You couldn't leave the kid at home?" he quirks a brow. He clearly doesn't like children. "You couldn't just tell me what you found over the phone?" I match his energy. Driving almost two hours into the city with Lyra isn't a breeze for me either, especially not after fighting with Corbin and having every muscle curled up in a tight knot. "Why are you so mean?" Lyra asks Mave, and I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from smiling.
I didn't raise a daughter with a filter, that's for sure.
Mave's eyes lower to her, "I'm not mean." He remains neutral, like always. "Then why are you sad?" Lyra tilts her head, and I feel a part of my soul leave my body. I glance down at Lyra,
