Lyra’s POV
A knock on the door startled me. It was late, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. My heart sank, a mix of unease and curiosity prickling at me. When I opened the door, the last person I expected to see stood there, Angela.
She looked… different. Her usually composed face was drawn and pale, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Angela swallowed hard, her lips trembling. “Lyra… I came to say I’m sorry.”
Sorry? That single word made my chest tighten, but I refused to let my guard down. “Sorry for what, exactly?”
“For everything,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For all the pain I caused you.”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, An
