After returning from the hospital, Lyra and I barely spoke about what happened at the exhibition.Perhaps she knew I didn't want to hear an explanation, and I knew she didn't know how to explain herself.The entire thing had already happened. No matter how many times we replayed that day in our minds, the result would remain the same.My arm was injured again, and the one thing I had been trying to protect—the studio and Mr. Morris's exhibition—had nearly become a burden because of me.For the next few days, Lyra stayed by my side.At first, I thought she was simply trying to make up for what she had done.That was the easiest explanation.<