The silence in the room was deafening. Eleanor Croft stared at Lyra, her eyes wide with dawning comprehension. The phone in Lyra's hand displayed their conversation—irrefutable proof that she was Dr. Payne.
"You're... Dr. Payne," Eleanor repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "All this time..."
Aunt Croft gasped, her teacup clattering against its saucer. "The Dr. Payne? The brilliant scientist everyone's been talking about?"
Lyra straightened her shoulders, meeting her mother's gaze steadily. "Yes."
Orla's face contorted with fury and disbelief. "That's ridiculous! She's lying. She can't possibly be—"
"I've been working under that pseudonym for years," Lyra cut in calmly. "It allowed me to conduct my research without... distractions."
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears. "The groundbreaking work in new energy sources... the patents... the innovations..." Her voice swelled with unmistakable pride. "That was all you?"
