By August 19th, the experiment was eleven months old. The garden had overgrown, the chandelier in the main hall wept dust, and Lyra had stopped sleeping.
“Radical honesty,” Lyra said, backing toward the garden gate. “I set a fire in the library. Sasha and Jules are already out the back. Lena and Theo left an hour ago through the cellar. And the only thing the cameras will capture tonight is your beautiful, burning house of infidelity.”
“What?”
He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers. “The final phase of the experiment. Radical honesty isn’t about confession, my love. It’s about reaction. Iris is a performance artist. The letter was a stimulus. We’ve been filming your responses for a project called VixenX —a study on how fidelity dies not in the act, but in the suspicion of it.”
“Documenting,” Marcus corrected. “Art.” -VixenX- Lyra Law - House Of Infidelity -19.08....
“I found the letter,” she said.
“Lyra,” Marcus said, not startled. He never was. “You should be sleeping.” By August 19th, the experiment was eleven months old
Now, she felt everything. And it was devouring her.