The ringing phone in Lyra's pocket sliced through the hospital room's tension like a knife. Everyone froze. Eleanor's confused gaze darted between her own phone and the sound coming from Lyra's direction.
Orla recovered first, her eyes narrowing with calculation. "Mother, wait." She gently took the phone from Eleanor's hand and ended the call. "You shouldn't strain yourself like this."
The ringing in Lyra's pocket stopped. She stood perfectly still, heart hammering against her ribs.
"But I need to speak with Dr. Payne," Eleanor protested weakly. "For Lyra's sake."
"Dr. Payne won't help her," Orla replied, her voice dripping with fake concern. "If anything, involving yourself might make things worse for Lyra."
Lachlan nodded vigorously. "Orla's right. The more people who know about this disgraceful situation, the more severe the consequences will be."
