VALORIA'S POV
A nice hot bath and a change of clothes later and I am finally out of my sleep wear and into jeans, fitted to my body and a plain baggy shirt. And as I dry my hair with a towel I can't help but linger on my conversation with Lyra.
As much as I hate that prideful smugness of hers I can't pretend that her words don't hold some painful truths and that perhaps I've been childishly clinging onto things rather than looking at everything logically.
Which all goes to prove that Lyra is everything I will never be; confident, bold, smug and prideful with an aura that dominates others around her, and she definitely doesn't have a truckload of issues sprung from years of abuse behind her.
The mere fact that I'm compelled to compare myself to her proves it alone.
And maybe I should go see Marcella because despite everything she's still my younger sister, pulled into a world of lies and deceit by a man we called father for most of our lives.
