I didn't go back to Lyra's shelter that night.

I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t deal with the questions why I looked so broken, why my eyes were red.

So instead, I ended up sitting at the far edge of the camp, where the firelight barely touched and the forest felt close and heavy. I sat with my back against a tree, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to breathe even though it felt like the air itself was pressing down on me.

That you're cursed. That you'll bring death to everyone ...