As the day ended, Lyra stood near the entrance, watching quietly.
"…You've done well," she said.
Andres glanced at her.
"…We've done well."
A small correction.
But important.
She noticed.
And for the first time—
She smiled.
Not calculated.
Not measured.
Genuine.
"…Yes," she said softly.
"We have."
And in that moment—
Something shifted again.
Not power.
Not strategy.
But connection.
Small.
Fragile.
Real.