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Chapter 8

last update publish date: 2026-06-09 19:34:56
Lyra’s POV

The hallway stretched before me, dimly lit by the gas lamps flickering in their iron sconces. My footsteps echoed on the marble floor—too loud, too fast. I forced myself to slow down, to stop running, and running implied fear. Implied weakness. Implied that Genevieve had won this round.

She had, though. She always did.

I pressed my palm flat against the cold stone wall and let myself breathe. In the quiet of the corridor, with no one watching, I allowed the mask to slip. My shoulders
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