☽ Lucan ☾
Nyra didn’t sleep that night. I heard her moving in her room long after the cabin had gone quiet. Floorboards creaked softly. A drawer opened and shut. Then silence. Then pacing again. I stayed at the kitchen table, staring at the cold hearth. Neither of us had found rest, and when morning came, she stepped out looking composed. Too composed. Her hair was tied back tightly. Her eyes were calm, but not settled. We stood across from each other in the kitchen, the same place where she had once accused me of hiding something.
Now she knew what it was.
“You think I’m not handling it well,” she said suddenly. I nodded. I wasn’t going to lie.
“You are handling it…quietly,” I said, and she frowned.
“And that worries you?” she asked.
“Yes,”
“You hid this from me, Lucan,” she said
