a map, chosen to be far away. Far from everything. But now that she was here, sitting on the edge of a bed with questionable bedding in a small guesthouse, she wondered if it

had thought that distance would be enough. That leaving was the solution. Yet, as she ran a hand through her hair to dislodge the accumulated dust,

oed beneath her feet, as if she were walking to a hollow drum. The windows were open, but no one seemed to be watching. Yet she felt

ay apples. Lyra avoided making eye contact and just wandered between the shelves. She didn't need m

ll. Not human. Her breath caught, her fingers clenching on the bag. She turned her head instinctively, searching for t

alley. They were leaning against a wall, their bodies relaxed but their gazes fixed on her. Lyra kept walking, trying not to

hed them, one

re new

d in spite of herself, their gaz

d curtly, immediately

le passed furtively on the l

at you're doing here. Not m

to free herself from

ssing through

face, stepped forward slightly. He had that look that Lyra kne

for people passing th

her and walked away, feeling their eyes fo

ive safety of her small room. Every creak, every breath of wind seemed to hide

He was there, in the darkness. A towering figure, a presence that filled the space like a silent storm. She

he whi

mth invade her, a sensation that was not entirely unpleasant but de

Co

ave sworn she wasn't alone. She strained her ears, but there was only silence

e window, where she looked out at the street below. Empty. But

g, she saw those eyes, that voice. She did not know who he wa