Sienna’s POV

The golden glow of the afternoon bathes the café interior, glinting off the glass windows as I sit watching Lyra at the corner table. Her small hands fly over a sheet of paper, coloring with unrestrained determination. She insisted on bringing her bulky crayon case today, and now the tablecloth explodes with every imaginable shade. Damien merely observes the chaos with a mix of amusement and admiration, clearly unbothered by her artistic ...