Lyra stared at the photograph in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. The woman in the image stared back at her with familiar eyes—her eyes. The resemblance was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.
"Who is she?" Lyra finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Damian studied her face with that same intense scrutiny. "Her name was Charlotte Gallagher. My father's sister."
Percival moved closer to Lyra, his shoulder brushing against hers as he examined the photograph. His expression remained carefully neutral, but she could feel the tension radiating from his body.
"The resemblance is... remarkable," Percival admitted reluctantly.
Damian nodded. "It's why I was so startled when I first saw you, Mrs. Covington. For a moment, I thought Charlotte had somehow returned from the dead."
