Chapter 1

She was standing on a bridge, her cloak billowing in the wind. Her hair was dishevelled from running, tears streaming from her eyes. She clenched and unclenched her hands as if to control the onslaught of emotions that were hitting her again and again. Below the bridge, the water flowed with ease, as if to comfort the lonely girl.

A silhouette in a dark cloak stood behind her. “Lyra, listen to me. I know I have wronged you, but…”

Lyra cut him off. “But what, Rowan? I thought you were the only one who was faithful to me, but you’re just like them. You didn’t even trust me enough to share your burden. Tell me, was it okay? You must have laughed behind my back at how naïve I’ve been. I don’t understand what kind of creature I am for everyone to fear me. You were with me, weren’t you? This whole damn time…”

She started hitting his chest, her voice quivering, and tears falling more rapidly. But Rowan didn’t stop her. He clenched his jaw, waiting for the turmoil in her to calm down.

“Tell me, Rowan, have I ever harmed anyone? No, that must be the reason they hunt me like a beast…” Her turbulent emotions didn’t let her finish her sentence, but Rowan understood. He moved forward and hugged Lyra tightly to comfort her, but Lyra, lost in her agony, didn’t feel his arms around her.

“Tell me, are you my tormentor or my protector?” Suddenly, Lyra lifted her head from his arms and asked him.

“Listen to me, love…” Rowan’s tone was urgent, but hearing the endearment, something snapped in Lyra.

“Don’t call me that! I’m just a tool to you.” She pushed Rowan harshly, and Rowan let her push him, but letting her push him was his mistake.

Because she ran so fast, for a moment Rowan fell into a daze, and when he came out of it, Lyra had already jumped into the river. His eyes widened, and he jumped after her.

Lyra felt everything start to blur around her. She didn’t even struggle, as if the very life force had been drained from her by the betrayal of her love. She felt someone jump after her, but it was too late. Her consciousness faded, and she lost the battle to death.

***************

Present Time

She was sleeping soundly. Her red hair sprawled on the bed. The curtains were drawn, making the room darker. The room was spacious and divided into two sections.

One section had been turned into a library, and the other was for the girl who was sleeping soundly. Tall wooden bookshelves containing books related to magic and fantasy were kept in the library, as the girl found herself drawn to such books. A plush armchair and a table were placed in the library.

On the other side, there was a wardrobe, a vanity mirror, a table, and beside it, a washroom. Overall, the room gave a cozy feeling.

Someone knocked on the door, but the girl didn’t stir. “Lyra, I am coming in.” Then someone pushed the door open.

“Goodness, you are still asleep. Come on, Lyra, wake up.” The intruder was none other than Wren, Lyra’s nanny. She pushed the blanket off Lyra and opened the curtains, which brightened the room.

“Umm, Wren, let me sleep some more,” Lyra mumbled, trying to hide herself under the comforter again, but Wren beat her to it.

“No, today is your mother’s birthday. There is going to be a celebration, so please get up.”

Lyra got up groggily, pushing her hair from her eyes. She looked up at Wren, who was a year older than her own mother but looked younger and more petite, fitting her name.

Sometimes, Lyra found Wren mysterious, but she didn’t know how to ask her about it. There were times when Wren seemed to know something before it happened. Lyra found it really odd that Wren could have chosen to work anywhere, but here she was, sticking with Lyra.

Of course, she was glad that Wren was with her because sometimes she felt lonely. She didn’t know where these feelings were coming from because she had opted to live alone when her parents wanted her to live with them.

Sometimes, she would get bored of that lifestyle, with all the parties and everything. It wasn’t that her parents didn’t love her; they did. But Lyra sometimes felt as if her life was a puzzle, and she was missing many parts of it.

After her morning routine, when she came out of the room, Wren had prepared her breakfast. She and Wren both sat at the table.

“So when are you going to get ready? Sophia has called a gazillion times this morning.”

“It’s not like the party has started now—it won’t start until the evening anyway.”

“Yeah, but Lyra, you don’t want to go there like a guest, do you?”

“I don’t know, Wren. Sometimes I feel like…”

“Feel like what?” Wren asked her, as if wondering what was going on in her mind.

“Like Mama is hiding something from me. As if she knows something about me that I don’t, and…”

“Wait, hold on, young lady. I think you should stop reading those magical books of yours. They are putting nonsense ideas in your head.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, blame it on my books.” She got up after finishing her breakfast. “Alright, I am going to get ready. Help me select a dress.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” Wren smiled at her, but when Lyra entered her room, the smile left Wren’s face, replaced by a worried expression.

***********

It was evening, and she was completely ready for the party. She was wearing a blue gown that accentuated her curves. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders. To match her outfit, she wore silver heels and minimal makeup. Although she was not conventionally beautiful, today she looked pretty.

She was the only daughter of Sophia Whitmore, a successful lawyer who had quit her job and was now living with her sister, Olivia Whitmore, Lyra’s aunt. However, Lyra wasn’t very close to her aunt. Her only friend was Wren. She didn’t ask her mother about her father because she knew some topics were not to be discussed, and she preferred it that way.

Lyra was very young when her father left them. At the time, her mother, Sophia, was a mess, and it was only Wren and Olivia who were there to support them. Although Lyra doesn’t remember much about her father, she sometimes feels a deep yearning for his love. Both Sophia and Olivia love her dearly, but Lyra never felt particularly close to them, even though Sophia was her mother.

Lyra was twenty-five years old and had graduated in English literature. After graduating, she chose to be a full-time writer. Once she saved enough, she moved out of her mother’s home, despite protests from both her mother and her aunt. Although Lyra sometimes felt like a burden, her mother didn’t leave her alone. Wren was sent with her.

Even though her new house wasn’t far from her mother’s house, she still felt free in her own space. The house wasn’t big—only two rooms, a kitchen, and a washroom—but it was enough for her.

The Whitmore house was bustling with sounds. Her mother hadn’t invited many people, just her old friends and acquaintances, but it still filled the house. Lyra had already sent her gift through Wren, so she didn’t have much to hold apart from her phone. She didn’t use her phone much, though, because honestly, who would she call anyway?

Just as she exited her house, her phone started ringing.

“Wren, I am on my way. No need to scold me. Besides, they’re all Mama’s friends anyway—it’s not like they’re going to mind me…” she said while signalling a taxi to stop.

“Come quickly; your mother is waiting for you.”

“Alright, I’m in the taxi. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She cut the call and directed the driver.

********

It had been an hour since the party ended, and her mother, Sophia, hadn’t left her alone for one moment.

“Mama, it’s your day. Don’t fuss over me, please. It’s not like I’m going to get hurt.” Her aunt looked at her sympathetically, as if she knew her plight. “Save me,” she mouthed.

Olivia smiled and went to them. “Come on, Sophie, let the child breathe. You didn’t even let her sit with the ladies.”

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that I miss my sweet girl?”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mama, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in weeks.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same anymore. You don’t live with us anymore.”

“Are you feeling lonely, Mama? Auntie, you should look for someone for Mama. She really needs someone in her life,” she said, glancing at her aunt Olivia.

Olivia and Wren both chuckled, while Sophia smacked her on the head.

“Ouch! A moment ago, you said you missed me, and now you’re smacking my head.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense.” Sophia then got up and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, while the rest of them laughed.

After a while, Olivia asked, “Are you okay, Lyra?”

“Yeah, I am. Why would you ask that?”

“Um, nothing. Just checking up on you.”

Lyra felt uncomfortable with the question, so she said, “I’ll go help Mama in the kitchen.”

“Wren, is she really okay?”

“Sometimes she’ll feel lonely, but nothing has happened so far. However, she suspects that Sophia is hiding something from her.”

“I’ve told Sophia to compose herself in front of Lyra again and again, but she won’t listen. We can’t risk…” Her sentence was cut off by Lyra.

“Dinner is ready. Come on, everyone.”

Olivia’s expression softened as she looked at the mother-daughter duo setting up the table together.

“Pray that nothing happens this time, Wren.”

“It won’t. We will protect her this time.” They both looked at each other and nodded.

********

At her mother’s insistence, Lyra and Wren stayed with Sophia and Olivia, as Lyra didn’t want to upset her mother. After dinner, Lyra went to her room. It was just the same as before. Her room in her own house was inspired by this one in her mother’s house. She had spent her whole life in this house, and now coming back to her old room felt a bit strange.

She walked over to the library section, which was completely identical to the one in her own house. The only thing that might have changed were the books.

She was looking for something to read when her eyes fell on a journal. Its cover was a shiny black, and it looked like someone had polished it recently. Lyra, as if in a trance, went to that section. She pulled out the journal and started reading it.

The journal told the story of a girl named Layla. It was written in third person, as though someone distant had recounted the story. The journal seemed to call to her, as though she somehow knew the person who had written the story.

As if entranced, she opened the journal to its first page, only to find it blank. Lyra frowned and flipped to another page, then another but all the pages were empty. But in the middle of the journal, the writing suddenly began.