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My heart aches. "Did she?"

Nyra meets my eyes. "No." The answer comes immediately. Without hesitation. Without doubt. "I know she didn't."

"How?" I ask.

"Because she couldn't." She smiles faintly. "My mother couldn't even lie about eating the last biscuit." A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. Nyra laughs too. Only for a second. Then the sadness returns. "I came here because..." She looks around the room. "I wanted one place where I could simply be Nyra. Not..." She swallows. "The daughter of the woman who betrayed everyone." She shakes her head. "I was so tired. Tired of whispers. Tired of people deciding who I was before speaking to me. So... I came here. And for the first time no one knew." She looks at me. "And then I met you." I don't trust myself to speak. So I simply reach across the blanket and take her hand. She squeezes mine. "I don't need you to fix it." She says quietly.

"I know." I whisper.

"I just..." She exhales slowly. "I didn't want you to hear it from someone else one day. Now You won't." I smile lsightly.

"If anyone tells me who your mother was..." I squeeze her hand. "I'll tell them who you are."

For a moment neither of us moves. Nyra wipes quickly beneath one eye and laughs at herself. "I promised I wouldn't cry." She says.

"I won't tell anyone."

"Good." She sniffs once. "That would ruin my reputation."

I smile. "You have a reputation?"

"I'm cultivating one." She laughs.

"What kind?"

She thinks very seriously. "Competent."

I laugh too. "I would've guessed 'tea thief.'"

"I contain multitudes."

For the first time since she started talking she smiles for real. And somehow that hurts even more. Because I realize how long she's been carrying this alone. I look at my best friend. Really look at her. The notebooks. The tea. The candle. The years of pain hidden beneath the brightest smile I know. A heavy knot settles in my chest. Because suddenly keeping my own secret feels impossible.

The room is quiet again. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that follows a truth too heavy to move around. The candle between us flickers softly, casting long shadows across the books scattered around the blanket. Neither of us reaches for them. Nyra's tea has gone cold. Mine too. She still hasn't let go of my hand. Neither have I. "I'm sorry." The words leave me before I can stop them.

She gives me a puzzled look. "For what?"

"For everything."

She smiles sadly. "You didn't frame my mother."

"I know." I swallow. "I just wish you hadn't carried that alone."

For a long moment, she doesn't answer. Then she squeezes my hand once. "I wasn't." I blink. "My grandparents never stopped believing her. They lost almost everything because of it. They could've chosen the easier story. They didn't." She looks down at our hands. "I've never been alone...Just lonely." The distinction breaks something inside me. I don't realize I'm crying until Nyra laughs softly. "Oh."

I hurriedly wipe beneath one eye. "I wasn't planning on doing that."

"I noticed."

The silence returns. But now it feels different. Lighter. Not because either of us has less to carry. Because one burden has finally been shared. I stare at the dancing candlelight. Then close my eyes. I know what I have to do. I just...Don't know how to begin. "Eirea?" She says again.

"Hm?"

She hesitates. "You've looked guilty for the last ten minutes."

"Have I?"

"You're terrible at hiding it."