Chapter 43

Lyon sat in the garden, his elbows resting on his knees, head hanging low as he stared at the grass beneath his feet. The early morning sun bathed the garden in a soft golden glow, but for Lyon, the world felt gray. The garden had always been his escape—his place to breathe when everything else felt suffocating—but not today. Today, nothing seemed to help.

The faint sound of footsteps broke his stillness. He looked up to see Martins walking toward the gate, his usual brisk pace carrying him along, keys jingling in his hand.

“Martins...!” Lyon called out suddenly, his voice sharper than intended.

Martins stopped mid-step, turning...