Chapter 4 ✨Lyra

This headache is definitely punishment.

My head feels like it’s being used as a drum, and I briefly consider ripping it off just to know peace. At least the curtains are drawn and my stomach isn’t doing gymnastics……small mercies.

serena is still knocked out beside me, which is shocking because she’s usually awake before the sun. I sit up slowly, testing my balance. Bad idea. The room spins.

I stand anyway. Mistake number two.

I stumble forward and land straight on her.

“Did you just fall on me with that big ass of yours?” she mumbles.

“Do you have aspirin?” I groan.

“There should be some downstairs,” she says, rolling over. “Get me too.”

I splash water on my face, rinse my mouth, and head down, following the quiet sounds of the house. Just as I reach the bottom step, the smell hits me.

Madam Tracy’s Sunday stew.

My stomach betrays me immediately.

I turn toward the first-aid kit—and freeze.

Soren.

He turns at the same time.

My heart skips like it remembers something my brain is trying very hard to forget. His scent. His voice. His hand on my lower back.

That’s your best friend’s dad, my conscience snaps.

“Good morning,” I manage.

He glances at his watch. “It’s almost afternoon.”

Of course it is.

I kneel, rifling through the kit, focused. Don’t look. Don’t think. Just grab the pills and go.

“Lyra.”

I straighten slowly.

“Come here.”

The words land heavier than they should. I walk toward him, every step accompanied by unnecessary thoughts.

“Sit,” he says. “And eat.”

It’s not a suggestion.

I exhale and sit.

Before I can protest, serena’s voice echoes from upstairs, asking about the aspirin. Soren looks up.

“serena, come down and eat,” he calls, firm.

Her brother lounges by the pool, phone to his ear, pacing like the world isn’t tilting on its axis for me.

Lunch is loud. Normal. serena talks. Her brother laughs. I mostly eat and nod, trying not to think about how aware I am of Soren’s presence across the table.

When we’re done, I excuse myself upstairs and don’t come down again.

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The next morning is kinder.

Coffee brews. serena moves around the kitchen, already dressed for the day. I lean against the counter, sipping slowly.

Soren walks in, loosening his cufflinks.

“Make one for me too,” he says.

serena grins. “You should take Lyra. Your routes are the same.”

I glare at her.

She ignores me.

I swallow. “I can….”

“It’s fine,” Soren says, already grabbing his keys.

Outside, the ride is quiet but not awkward. Just… charged.

“You dance like you don’t care who’s watching,” he says eventually.

I laugh nervously. “I usually don’t.”

“That’s dangerous,” he replies lightly.

We stop outside my building.

“Thank you,” I say, already reaching for the door.

“Lyra,” he calls.

I look back.

“Be careful.”

I nod, stepping out before my thoughts betray me.

As I walk away, one thing is painfully clear.

God help me.

Because this is getting complicated.