Lyra's POVThe following day, as we embarked on our journey to the office, I delved into my sketches.Despite the turbulence in my mind, I managed to sketch out a piece of art. Upon his return, he couldn't resist the urge to peek into my drawing book.“Wow, this is incredible. How did you conjure such looks?” His eyes widened in amazement, and I couldn't help but chuckle.“I suppose I just surrendered to the flow of my emotions,” I replied.“It's like a tapestry of a mystical forest, brimming with life and grace, yet veiled in a mystery. The darker hues lend it a touch of melancholy,” he observed, and I nodded, a smile playing on my lips.“What stirred such inspiration within you?” His curiosity persisted.“As I mentioned, I simply allow my emotions to guide my hand,” I explained with a smile.He drew closer, setting the book down gently as he took my hands in his. “Lyra, are you sad?” His question caught me off guard.“Well, if happiness is elusive, then honesty is the next best thin

George’s POV "Why didn't you tell me?" I strained my voice, frustration evident in every word."I'm sorry, I thought we'd be done on time and head back home," Lyra whispered, her tone apologetic."We have to find a way to leave," I insisted."It's not that bad, I'm just a bit more sensitive than usual," Lyra assured me, though her words didn't fully assuage my concerns.Determined to depart as soon as possible, I decided we would wait until after my mother's speech, whatever it was she wanted to announce."Hey," a woman approached us, her familiarity indicating she used to work with my father. After exchanging greetings, I introduced Lyra to her."I like your outfit. Is there a chance of meeting your stylist?" she inquired, her interest piqued by Lyra's attire.“I'm the stylist," Lyra responded proudly, her smile radiant."That's impressive. Where's your office? I'd like to have a few outfits styled. My daughter's wedding is coming up, and we could use the help," the woman explained