Lyra Thorne

Felicity Gingham thought she had learned how to live with uncertainty. The crossings are behind her. The notebook remains closed more often than open. In the quiet rhythm of archive work, old paper and careful records offer the comfort of things that can be verified, catalogued, and trusted. Then a forgotten document surfaces from the bottom of an estate box. A set of initials. A voice from another century.
A trail buried inside the history of a city that seems determined to remember some stories and erase others. As Felicity follows the record deeper into the past, the questions she has spent years avoiding begin to return. What survives when a life is reduced to fragments? What disappears? And how much of the truth can ever be captured by ink on a page?