Lyra's POV
I woke up with fire crawling across my skin.
Not the gentle warmth of morning sunlight streaming through windows. This was something else entirely. A persistent burning that started at my fingertips and worked its way up my arms like tiny needles stabbing into my flesh.
I bolted upright in the narrow bed, immediately clawing at my forearms. The sensation only grew worse with each scratch, spreading like wildfire across my neck and shoulders. My nails left angry red tracks, but the relief lasted mere seconds before the burning returned with a vengeance.
The morning light filtering through the grimy window made everything look ten times worse than it had the night before. That dark stain in the corner wasn't just discoloration. It was mold. Black and spreading like some living thing that had been feeding on the moisture and neglect for who knows how long. Water damage marked the walls in ugly brown patches, evidence of years of deliberate neglect.
