Xander caught sight of Lyra slipping quietly down the hallway, the tray in her hands untouched. His gaze narrowed. Without a word, he stepped in front of her, causing her to flinch slightly. Her head remained low, shoulders tight.
“Where do you think you’re going, little rabbit?” he murmured, voice playful but laced with steel. “You made that soup for Kyson?”
She didn’t respond, her lips pressed together. But the flicker of emotion in her eyes—hurt, confusion—was enough.
“Then why are you running away before giving him it?” Xander sighed dramatically, then gently turned her by the shoulders and guided her back down the hall. “Come on. You didn’t do all this for nothing.”
When they entered Kyson’s hospital room again, Lyra could feel the air shift. Livia was still there, seated casually
