Lyra's POV
I wasn't trusting her smile. Not even for a moment.
The same lady who had looked at me like dirt hours earlier was now softly brushing hair out of my face like I was her beloved daughter? No. Something was off. Her tone was honeyed, but her eyes rang hollow. There was calculation there, beneath the smile she was attempting to adopt as perfume.
The elderly there were scarfing it down, though. One of them even nodded, as if we were finally putting the hatchet to rest. As if that was something I wanted.
I didn't speak. I couldn't. If I'd so much as opened my mouth, I had no idea what would come out. A thank you? A threat? A wail?
So I smiled. Tight. Controlled. Because if Ruth was going to be sweet, I could pretend to be too.
"Thanks," I finally said, my voice steady.
She sm
