Chapter 66

Lyra’s POV

I spent the entire evening perched on the balcony, my eyes glued to the driveway and the front entrance of the house, as if sheer willpower could make Alistair’s car appear. Every time I thought I heard the engine growl or saw headlights in the distance, my pulse would race—only to find that nothing had changed. My instincts failed me again and again, leaving me more anxious with each passing minute. The sky had grown dark hours ago, and the streetlamps flickered on one by one, yet no familiar vehicle rolled into view.

After what felt like an eternity of tense waiting, my legs went numb from crouching on the balcony’s cold stone ledge. I rose stiffly, rubbed at my arms, and decided I couldn’t stay out there any longer. I slipped inside, every footstep echoing on the hardwood floor, and headed straight for the kitchen. If I was going to sit and fret, at least I could do it with a warm cup of coffee in my hand. I filled the kettle, waited for it to whistl