They exchanged worried glances, unease settling between them as they caught the expression on Lyra’s face.
Without a word, Lyra rose from her seat. Her eyes flickered between the three of them, searching, accusing before she turned and walked away.
“Oh, s**t,” Silas muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
“She has that face,” Zayn whispered, dread tightening his voice.
“We’re definitely in trouble,” Ezra groaned, and together they hurried after her.
Lyra pushed into an empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind her. Her breathing was uneven, her hands clenched at her sides as the triplets followed her in.
“Lyra, I swear, we didn’t have a—” Ezra began quickly, desperation in his tone.
“Maya.”
The single word cut through his sentence like a blade.
All three froze. Their face
