Percival Covington watched Lyra from across the breakfast table, his mind churning with suspicion. The way she had mentioned Dorian Cross last night—the mysterious "proof" of her identity—it all seemed connected to the plagiarism accusation somehow. Could Dorian have been the one to provide her with the stolen research plan?
"You're staring," Lyra said without looking up from her coffee.
Percival didn't bother denying it. "I was thinking about what you said last night."
Lyra tensed visibly. "I told you, you'll find out on Monday like everyone else."
"That's not what concerns me." Percival set down his cup with deliberate precision. "Your relationship with Dorian Cross does."
Now she looked up, surprise crossing her features. "My relationship? We're colleagues, nothing more."
"Colleagues who share secrets about identities?" Percival raised an eyebrow. "Seems rather intimate."
