Frustration boiled over as she stared at the empty space. She remembered how Lyra had insisted on keeping these rags, even when Elara told her to throw them away. But now, she hadn't taken a single one.
'I don't like you anymore.'
The broken voice echoed in the back of her mind. Elara's step faltered, and she moved back. Those last words kept popping into her head like a curse. Her lips thinned into a hard line as she stared around the room, but she wasn't really seeing the walls or the dust.
Her breathing turned ragged. Her gaze went ice-cold. Lyra's words had felt like a lie at the time, but her absence was screaming that they were the truth.
Elara's knuckles turned white. She swung her fist at the wooden cupboard, the impact vibrating through her arm. She didn't care about the dust flying into her lungs. She punched it again and again. The door snapped off its hinges, and the cupboard shook before slamming onto the floor with a heavy thud.
