It was disturbing to see a woman like Elara—a person who was usually like a stone wall, immovable and untouchable—standing in the dark and muttering to herself.
Max was shocked, but more than that, she was amused. Lately, she had felt like Elara would kill her on sight. But seeing her like this, Max could only watch with a blank expression.
She hadn't been eager to see her sister again. She had only come here to see Lyra one last time before leaving, but her heart throbbed with a dull pain at what she had found.
Her confusion over why Lyra had vanished so suddenly died the moment she saw Elara. Her half-sister was drenched from the rain, her shirt unbuttoned, punching a wooden cupboard in the dark.
As much as Max wanted to believe that Lyra didn't love Elara, she knew the truth. She had seen the look on Lyra's face whenever she talked or even thought about Elara. That kind of sincerity only came from love. Max knew it like the back of her hand.
