I hurried down the corridor of our bunker, my heart racing. Lyra was out there, potentially walking straight into danger, all because we'd questioned her judgment about Dr. Ian.
"She can't have gotten far," Kaelen said, striding beside me, his longer legs easily keeping pace. "I've already sent guards after her."
"She's smart," I replied, worry etching itself deeper with every step. "If she doesn't want to be found, she'll find a way to evade them."
We reached the makeshift hospital ward—the most likely place Lyra would go when upset. She always threw herself into work when emotional. Sure enough, I found her aggressively organizing medical supplies, her movements sharp and angry.
Relief flooded through me. "Thank goddess. Ronan said you'd left."
Lyra didn't look up, continuing to sort syringes with unnecessary force. "I was going to. Changed my mind at the garage. Figured running off emotional would just validate everyone's opinion that I can't be trusted to think clearly."
