LYRA
The absence lingered into the morning, subtle but unmistakable. It wasn’t painful, It was more like the sharp awareness of a space that used to be filled but now lay empty. Like pressing your tongue against the spot where a tooth once was. No ache, just a hollow shape where something had belonged.
That night, sleep eluded me, but not because of the dream. This time, it was quieter, a restless feeling that I had given something away without fully understanding what it was, or even if I had the right to give it. “Sky?” I whispered in the early hours.
“I’m here.”
“What did I give her?”
There was a pause that stretched too long. “I’m still trying to understand it,” Sky said finally. “Give me time.”
That was all.
I lay in the dark, surrounded by the familiar stone walls of my room,
