Romans & histoires Lyla Garrity

At the far end of the study, a massive circular stone slab had been rolled back, exposing a narrow, spiral staircase that plunged into the mountain's core. Lyra was sitting on the top step, a heavy leather-bound ledger resting across her lap. Her tactical visor was pushed up onto her forehead, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. When she looked up at Natalia's approach, there was no joy in her face—only a profound, hollow dread.

she says. “I’m not malfunctioning.” “You absolutely are.” Alex raises his hand. “I would like the record to show that Lila Garcia has smiled at least seventeen times in the last ten minutes.” “Twenty-two,” Tyler corrects. I turn toward him. “You counted?” He shrugs. “Maybe.” Maya lets out an exaggerated groan. “Oh my God. Please stop looking at each other like that.” “It’s gross,” Noah agrees, chuckling when Tyler flips him off.