Fragmented Light

Chapter 2: White Walls

The pillow came away red when Lyra lifted her head. Her hands found familiar patterns in the dark – checking sheets, touching face, finding fresh wetness under her nose. The room tilted as she pushed herself upright. Once. Twice. Third try stuck.

"Lyra?" Metal creaked as Aunt Milra moved around their small kitchen. "Transport leaves in twenty."

She tried to answer, but copper flooded her mouth. One hand groped for the cloth she kept by her bed, pressed it to her nose while the other gripped the wall. The stolen data chip clinked against the floor where her jacket had fallen, reflecting dim light from failing lumina-strips.

The three steps to her mirror took five. Her reflection fractured and doubled, then settled into something almost human. Dark circles made her eyes look bruised. Crystal dust clung to dried blood beneath her nose, down her chin, across her collar.

Water from their recycling unit came out rust-colored, but it was wet enough to scrub away evidence. The white uniform shirt they made scholarship students wear showed every stain, every crease, every sign that marked her as less than corporate clean. Her fingers trembled as they did up buttons.

"I heard you moving." Aunt Milra's shadow fell across the doorway. "There's half a pain tab left from—"

The bottle rattled as Lyra's hand shot out, shoving it back before Milra could finish. "Voss's daughter still has crystal lung. Save it."

Metal groaned under Milra's grip on the doorframe. The same sound their supports had made the day of the accident. The day her parents—

"At least eat something." Milra's voice caught on memories neither of them could afford.

Lyra's stomach rolled at the thought of food. She focused instead on making her hands steady enough to smooth her jacket, check her collar, tuck the data chip somewhere it wouldn't show. Everything had to look perfect. Had to be perfect. Had to—

The room spun again. Her shoulder hit the wall before she could catch herself.

"That's it." Milra's footsteps approached. "You're not going anywhere until—"

"Transport leaves in ten." Lyra pushed off from the wall, letting momentum carry her toward the door. Past her aunt's reaching hands. Past the half-filled glass of recyc-water. Past the memories neither of them talked about. "Can't be late. They love any excuse to revoke scholarships."

"You're not—" Milra's voice cracked. Changed. "You don't have to be her."

Lyra's step faltered. Just for a moment. Just long enough for fresh blood to drip onto white fabric.

The transport depot's warning chime echoed through maintenance tunnels. Five minutes. She shrugged her jacket higher, letting the collar hide the stain. Her fingers found the data chip through fabric, pressing until its edges bit flesh. The pain helped her focus.

"Just school." The words came out steady. Practiced. Perfect. "Nothing burning today."

Except her veins. Except her eyes. Except everything inside that wouldn't stay quiet.

The door sealed behind her with a hiss of escaping pressure. White Sector's barrier glowed ahead, pristine and impossible and waiting to be stained. She touched her collar once more, checking for wetness. Straightened her spine. Counted steps until the world settled into something almost stable.

Time to go be corporate property's favorite charity case.

The blood could wait.

The scanner's purple beam crawled over Lyra's skin like hungry insects. Behind reinforced glass, White Sector guards watched their displays with predatory focus. Her boots left grey smears on perfect floors, but she carefully wiped them clean before proceeding. Last week's bruises had finally faded – no point inviting new ones.