Lyra's POV
The rain poured down in sheets, the cold droplets soaking through my coat as I stood in the shadows of the abandoned warehouse. Clara’s message had been cryptic but urgent. Meet me at the old docks. Midnight. No one else.
Kurtis had wanted to come, but I’d insisted on going alone. Clara had made it clear that this was a matter of trust, and I couldn’t risk spooking her. But as the minutes dragged on, my nerves began to fray.
The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the empty space, and I tensed, my fingers tightening around the small knife I’d hidden in my pocket.
“Lyra.”
I turned to see Clara stepping out of the shadows, her face pale and drawn. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, her usually sharp eyes dull with exhaustion.
“Clara,” I said, relief washin
