"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Lyra signed, her hands moving sharply, accusation radiating from every gesture.
Miranda's eyes widened in shock, her mouth gaping. "Why would I do that? I would never!" she said quickly, her voice high with false indignation. "I was simply concerned for you."
She held her ground, her expression carefully schooled, but Lyra wasn't convinced. She could see the tension behind Miranda's mask—the too-careful choice of words, the too-quick denial. It all stank of calculation.
Lyra exhaled softly, frustration flickering across her face. She had expected Miranda to deny it, of course. A girl like her, with her claws sunk into something secretive, wouldn't fold so easily.
But denial didn't erase the truth.
Miranda had been watching her. The lie about Penny had been deliberate. And now Lyra knew it wasn't just coincidence—it was strategy.
