Elara
I closed the cartoon-covered notebook with a soft Thud.
"All done!" I said cheerfully, setting the pencil down on the folding table.
Lyra, whose legs had been swinging impatiently beneath the table for the last ten minutes, immediately jumped to her feet. Her eyes sparkled like she'd just won the lottery, even though she'd only managed to finish ten subtraction problems without using her fingers.
"Yay! I'm free!" she cheered, throwing both hands in the air.
Without warning, the little girl snatched her Bobo doll from its neat spot on the sofa and sprinted toward her bedroom door. Her small footsteps thumped against the parquet floor, creating a joyful rhythm of chaos in a house that—according to Dio—used to be far too quiet.
"Hey, Lyra! Where are you going? Not going to say go
