Lyra When I woke up, nothing felt familiar.The room was too bright. Too clean. The sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nose, and machines hummed softly somewhere beside me.My head hurt.I tried to sit up, but the pain forced me back down with a sharp wince.“Oh—hey, easy,” a woman’s voice said gently.I turned toward the sound, my vision still blurry, trying to make sense of her face—but there was no recognition. “You’re alright,” she continued softly.A man stepped into the room just then, holding a small bag. He paused when he saw me awake.“She’s up,” he said quietly as he moved closer.They stood beside me, watching me carefully.“What’s your name?” the woman asked.Panic stirred faintly in my chest as I tried to answer. Then a voice echoed in my mind, faint and distant—like it didn’t belong to me.“…Lyra,” I whispered.Relief washed over her face.“That’s a beautiful name,” she said softly. After a brief pause, she asked, “Do you remember your parents?”I frowned, trying to th
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