Lyra stared at the photograph in her hands, unable to tear her eyes away from the woman's face. It was like looking into a mirror that showed the future—the same eyes, the same nose, the same distinctive mole at the corner of her left eye. Even the way the woman held herself, with a straight back and subtle tilt of the chin, mirrored Lyra's own posture.
"This is..." she whispered, her voice trailing off as words failed her.
"Lady South," Mr. Gallagher said gently. "Eleanor Croft's mother."
The revelation hit Lyra like a physical blow. Her fingers trembled against the worn edges of the photograph as she traced the outline of the woman's face—her grandmother's face.
"She was quite extraordinary," Mr. Gallagher continued, his voice soft with respect. "This was taken during her visit to Oceanion's equestrian society. I was just a young man then, passionate about horses. She taught me techniques that revolutionized my understanding of these magnificent animals."
