LYRA
I rearranged the books carefully, one after the other, trying to ignore the mess still surrounding me. Dust clung to my fingers, settling into the small lines of my skin as I stacked each one neatly. Like if I moved gently enough, I could somehow undo everything that had already happened.
My gaze shifted to the shelf. I hesitated, then reached for it. The wood still felt heavier than it looked. I tightened my grip and tried to lift but all to no avail.
I adjusted my stance and tried again, putting more strength into it. A quiet frustration built in my chest and then I let go of the wood.
I can't do this alone. For a moment, I just stood there staring at it. Then I closed my eyes trying to focus on my inner mind.
I could feel his eyes on me even though he sat behind me, pretending to read, I knew he was watching.
