Lyra lay on the small cot, listening to the quiet sounds of the village around her. The soft crackle of the fire, the distant laughter of children, and the murmur of voices from outside all reminded her that, for now, they were somewhere safe. Her son slept soundly beside her, his tiny breaths steady and comforting. She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, her heart swelling with love and relief.
Mina was settled nearby, her body finally at ease after the long night. They hadn't had time to talk much since Dawson led them here, but Lyra knew she felt the same mixture of exhaustion and hope. They'd both left so much behind, and although they were physically safe, their minds and hearts were still haunted by the memory of Alaric and the life they'd escaped.
"Lyra," Mina whispered, breaking the silence. "Do you think… we'll really be safe here? What if Alaric finds us?"
