Lyra's POV
"Percival?"
Both voices spoke the name simultaneously, creating an eerie harmony that sent chills racing down my spine.
My gaze darted between Rowena and Celeste, bewilderment creasing my forehead.
"Who exactly is Percival?"
They exchanged one of those loaded glances that communicated volumes without a single word spoken, the kind that twisted my stomach into knots because I sensed whatever revelation followed would shift everything.
Rowena reached for the paper with trembling fingers, handling it as if it were made of fire.
"Percival is Genevieve's father."
The statement struck me like a physical blow. At first, my mind refused to process the words properly. I struggled to piece them together into something coherent, something that aligned with everything I thought I knew, but they kept slipping away from my comprehension like smoke.
Then understanding crashed over me.
My stomach lurched violently, threatening to empty its contents.
"What did you just say?"
