Mia stood frozen for a second, her breath still uneven from the run, before she stepped closer to the black sedan.
"Lyra?" she called, her voice rough.
The back door opened.
"Get in," Lyra said. "You look like you're about to pass out."
Mia did not argue. She slid into the car, and the door shut behind her with a soft click. Suddenly the space felt too small.
Lyra looked her over from the opposite seat, her brows drawing together. "What happened to you? You look awful."
Mia let out a weak laugh. "Thanks. That helps."
"I'm serious."
There was no teasing in Lyra's voice this time.
Mia looked away and stared out the window as the car pulled back onto the road. "It's nothing."
Lyra let the silence sit between them for a moment.
"You disappear for days, then I find you wandering around alone in the middle of the night looking like you barely survived something, and you expect me to believe it's nothing?"
Mia pressed her lips together.
Normally she would have kept quiet. Normally she would have swallowed everything down and pretended she could handle it on her own.
Tonight, she did not have the energy.
"It's my mom," she said quietly. "The hospital wants more money. A lot more. They said they might stop treatment."
Lyra's expression changed immediately. "How much?"
Mia hesitated before forcing the words out.
"Two million Ras."
The number settled heavily between them.
"And I got into Norvayne High," Mia added. "But I have to pay the acceptance fee in three days."
Lyra sat up straighter. "You got in?"
Mia gave a tired shrug. "Doesn't really matter. I can't afford it."
Lyra leaned back and dragged a hand through her hair. "Damn."
Mia rubbed at her face. "Yeah. Damn."
A few minutes later, the car turned into a long private driveway.
Tall gates stood open ahead of them. Beyond them sat a massive house with glowing windows, white stone walls, and perfectly trimmed gardens. Even at night, the place looked expensive.
Servants moved quietly in the distance. Guards stood near the entrance, still and watchful.
Mia suddenly became aware of everything about herself: her wrinkled clothes, her messy hair, the dirt still clinging to her hands.
She did not belong here.
"Relax," Lyra said softly, noticing the way Mia had stiffened. "Nobody's going to bite you."
Mia managed a faint smile. "Funny."
Inside, the house was even worse.
High ceilings. Soft lights. Marble floors. Everything looked polished and untouched.
Mia followed Lyra farther inside, slowing with every step.
"Sit," Lyra said, pointing toward one of the couches.
Mia sank into it, too exhausted to care about ruining something expensive.
Lyra disappeared briefly, then returned with her phone in one hand.
"I told the chef to make something," she said. "Nothing too heavy."
Mia blinked. "You have a chef?"
Lyra gave her a look. "Of course I have a chef. What did you think? That I spend my evenings cooking for myself?"
For the first time that night, Mia laughed properly.
The image of Lyra standing in a kitchen wearing an apron was ridiculous.
"What's he making?" Mia asked. "Something rich people eat? Truffles? Caviar?"
Lyra lifted a shoulder. "Filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus. Dessert is probably chocolate."
Right on cue, Mia's stomach growled loudly.
Lyra grinned. "I'll take that as excitement."
They ate a few minutes later.
The steak was so soft it barely needed chewing. Mia had not realized how hungry she was until she tasted it.
For a moment, she just stared down at the plate in front of her. The white dishes, the silver cutlery, the expensive food.
Then she looked at her own hands.
She suddenly felt embarrassed all over again.
"You eat like this every day?" she asked.
Lyra shrugged. "Pretty much."
"And you don't get tired of it?"
"Honestly? Sometimes I just want a burger and fries."
Mia snorted. "Poor little rich girl."
Lyra laughed, but it faded quickly.
"Okay," she said, leaning forward. "Enough pretending everything is fine. What happened tonight?"
Mia set her fork down. Her shoulders slumped. "It's Axel. We… we had a fight."
Lyra's expression darkened. "A fight? What kind of fight?"
Mia's eyes stung. She blinked hard, trying to keep the tears back, but her throat tightened anyway. "He… he tried to force himself on me."
Lyra's fork clattered onto her plate. For a second she just stared, eyes wide with shock, then fury flashed across her face. "What?"
"I got out," Mia said quickly, voice shaking. "I hit him and ran."
"He's such a bastard," Lyra growled, the words low and fierce.
She reached across and caught Mia's wrist.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you're not alone? You have me, Mia. But you never let me in."
"I don't want to be a burden," Mia whispered.
"You're not a burden," Lyra said firmly. "Look, I'll help with the money. No questions asked this time."
Mia shook her head. "You should know me by now, Lyra. I can't just take your money. I won't. I need to do something to earn it."
Lyra frowned. "Why are you always like this? Why can't you just let me help?"
"Because I don't want handouts," Mia replied. "If you're going to help, I need to do something in return."
Lyra stared at her a moment, then a mischievous little smile crept onto her face. "Okay. You want to do something for me? How about this, let's make a deal."
"What kind of deal?" Mia asked cautiously.
Lyra crossed one leg over the other. "Our family manager set up a date for me with some important guest. Political, business, whatever. I don't even care."
Mia frowned. "And?"
"And I don't want to go," Lyra said simply.
Mia stared. "So?"
Lyra's smile widened. "So you go instead."
Mia let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "You want me to pretend to be you? Lyra, that's insane."
"It's just one dinner," Lyra said casually. "You show up, look decent, act a little spoiled, and make sure he never wants to see you again."
Mia shook her head right away. "No. Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"Because it's your father, Lyra," Mia said, lowering her voice. "The Alpha. If something goes wrong…"
"It won't," Lyra said.
"You don't know that."
Lyra leaned forward, more serious now. "He won't even be there. It's just a date, a formality. These things happen all the time."
Mia still hesitated. Then her phone buzzed in her lap. She glanced down at the screen, the same message, the countdown ticking lower. Time was running out, and so were her choices.
Her fingers tightened around the phone as the weight of her mom, the hospital, and everything she stood to lose crashed over her again.
She lifted her gaze back to Lyra.
"…Just one dinner?" she asked quietly.
Lyra nodded. "That's all."
Mia swallowed. The unease in her chest refused to loosen.
"…Fine," she said at last.
Lyra's face lit up. "Perfect. You'll stay here tonight, and we'll get you ready tomorrow."
Mia managed a small smile, but the tightness in her chest stayed right where it was.
Something about this still didn't feel right.