Chapter 37
The cottage smelled faintly of salt and lavender, the air drifting in through open windows. Lyra sat on the worn steps at the front, a shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Ella stood behind her, smoothing out the fabric as though the gesture itself could erase years of mistrust.
“Do you regret it?” Ella asked quietly, lowering herself onto the step beside her.
Lyra tilted her head, watching the horizon where the sea shifted in gentle silver waves. “Which part? The years of silence, or the nights I dreamt you were a ghost?”
Ella’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Both.”
Lyra leaned back against the wooden railing, the wind teasing her hair. “Regret is pointless. We lived what we lived. The only choice now is whether we let it rot us further, or… try to start again.”
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