Chapter 29
The house remained his, but it no longer felt like it belonged to him.
Bruce wandered its corridors in silence, his steps echoing against walls that once rang with life. The grand rooms, filled with polished wood and high windows, were empty now. The furniture was there, the paintings still hung in place, the lights still glowed when he turned them on. But the presence that had animated the space; laughter, voices, warmth — had moved elsewhere.
He paused by the staircase, listening. There was no sound from above. The children’s voices, once constant, no longer drifted through the halls. He could still remember the way they used to come running down the steps, the way their feet struck the wood as they called for him. Now, when he pictured them, he saw them clinging to Lyra, t
