Lyra’s POV
Leo was quieter now. Not the kind of quiet that meant peace,but the kind of quiet that meant calculation. Like a storm settling into silence just long enough to pick a new target.
And he’d found one.
Mira. of course.
The next morning started like any other. Pancakes. Crayons. Mira cross-legged on the floor humming whatever theme song she was currently obsessed with. Leo sitting in the chair, pretending to read, but really just watching us,watching me.
I felt it before he said it. That shift. That thick, syrupy tension that clings to your spine before the drop.
“Lyra,” he said finally, voice all low sugar and barbed wire. “You ever think about kids?”
My spoon paused in midair.
Mira didn’t look up. She was too busy drawing what looked like a cartoon lion wearing sunglasses
