Lyra’s POV
It started with the notes.
Tiny scraps of paper, fragile and weightless, yet heavy enough to shift the ground beneath me.
The first one had appeared a few days ago, slipped under my door while I was asleep. A folded piece of paper, simple and unassuming—until I read the message scrawled inside:
“You’re not as trapped as you think.”
I’d crumpled it up instantly, heart hammering.
A trick.
A mistake.
Some foolish attempt by one of Leo’s enemies to rattle him by getting to me.
But then, the next night, another note. This time, the message was clearer, and the handwriting—messy, rushed, familiar—stopped my heart.
“There’s a way out. Meet me in the library at midnight.”
I knew that handwriting. Adrian.
For a moment, I’d just stared at it, my breath caught in my throat. How
