A gust of wind whipped through the cemetery, carrying Lyra’s ashes into the air. “No, don’t!” I cried, struggling against the wolf warriors who held me back. I reached out, desperate to grasp the fleeting particles, but they slipped through my fingers, disappearing like my daughter’s life.
"No..."
The last connection to Lyra was gone. I collapsed to the ground, trying to gather what little remained of her from the soil. Tears of despair streamed down my face, each one a silent testament to my overwhelming guilt and pain.
Lilith stepped forward, her voice dripping with false concern as she ground her heel into the scattered ashes. “Seraphina, it’s just a stranger’s ashes. Why are you putting on such a pitiful show? If you wanted to prevent Farrow from being buried here, you didn’t need to go to such lengths.”
Her words snapped something inside me. I surged to my feet, shoving her away with all the strength I could muster. She staggered back and fell, but the satisfaction was fleeting.