In the private lounge, Lyra hadn't felt all that bothered at first—but after Saoirse's string of provocations and sneering remarks, something inside her snapped.
Anger. Real, simmering anger.
Without warning, she shoved against the door.
"Move aside. Didn't you say Veil's in there? Then let me in and see for myself!"
"And who the hell are you, thinking you can just barge in wherever you want?"
Saoirse leaned her weight into the door with a cold snort, shooting Lyra a disdainful look.
"I told you already—Veil's in here with me. You've been standing here this whole time, and not once has he said a word. Doesn't that tell you something? If he really cared about you more… wouldn't he have come out already, just to say something?"
She gave a smug shrug.
"Stop deluding yourself. Your little tricks? They're way too naïve for someone like me."
Whether it was true or not didn't matter anymore.
