Lyra’s POV

I stood by the entrance of the mansion, my eyes locked on Jacob as he spoke to Harold. There was tension in Jacob’s posture, the kind that signaled he was piecing together a dangerous truth. Harold, however, remained composed, his face a mask of innocence.

Jacob’s jaw tightened as he leaned in closer, his words sharp and demanding, but Harold didn’t waver. A cold unease settled in my stomach. Something wasn’t right.

I cast one last glance at the confrontation before turning on my heel and stepping into the mansion. My steps were brisk but quiet as I moved through the dimly lit hallway toward the children’s room....