Chapter 81

Clara’s POV

The moment we stepped inside, every available hand was busy transforming our entryway into a makeshift salon for dinner preparations. The air smelled faintly of lavender polish and sizzling butter from the kitchen. My skates still hung loosely in my hand, straps dangling as I shrugged off my heavy coat. I dropped it onto the nearest chair with a soft thud.

“Stupid ice skating,” I muttered under my breath, frustration curling in my chest as I peeled off my damp gloves.

Valerie, already unbuttoning her own coat, sighed heavily. “Audrey is just so full of herself,” she complained, tossing her coat onto a pile of laundry destined for the dryer. Her tone carried the same sharp edge it always did whenever Audrey’s name came up.

I glanced at her, the overhead light catching a glare of annoyance in her eyes. “And that Lyra girl,” Valerie continued, crossing her arms, “we have to do something—fast—about her.”

Valerie was right. I hated feeling