Daphne's POV
The silence stretched endlessly after she disappeared down the corridor.
Without Lyra's presence, the narrow hallway seemed to contract around me, as if the stone walls had crept inward the instant her footsteps vanished into nothing. My knuckles were white against the cell bars, joints locked from gripping the iron so tightly I had lost all feeling in my fingertips. The metal had grown frigid enough to burn against my palms, yet I could not seem to let go.
What does that mean...
Her parting words circled through my mind like vultures, each repetition more vicious than the last.
What does that mean...
My attention shifted to the guard positioned just outside my cell. He had been doing his best impression of a statue, eyes carefully averted, but I had caught the way his gaze tracked her retreating form with barely concealed interest.
"Get my mother on the phone," I commanded.
