Chapter 86

Alistair’s POV

It had been only a handful of days since Lyra left on her trip, but already I felt hollow. The moment she closed the door behind her and stepped into the taxi, the house lost its warmth and chatter. Every hallway felt too quiet. Every corner echoed my loneliness. I moved through the rooms like a ghost, going through my usual motions but feeling disconnected from each action.

That morning, as on every weekday since she’d gone, I woke up to the gray light of dawn slipping through the curtains. I dressed in my crisp white shirt and dark tailored trousers, fastening my cufflinks with practiced ease. My tie was knotted perfectly—just the way I liked it—and yet it all felt meaningless without Lyra humming softly in the next room as she always did while making breakfast. I clipped on my belt, slipped my feet into polished leather shoes, and paused by the full-length mirror. I stared at my own reflection, seeing only the hollow set of my jaw, the tension ar