Yes, she'd looked, and his accusation that she'd– what? Been too stupid to see something? That reminded her of the condescension he'd showed the first night they'd met. And, okay, a couple of times since then, too, times she'd been happy to brush off as unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but now she was starting to wonder if that'd been wise.
There was a warning in her gut, a strong one. Lyra had always listened to her instincts when they got all insistent like this– when to bail from a date, when to leave a party– and they rarely steered her wrong. Right now, despite the fact she couldn't understand his motivation for it, her gut was telling her with absolutely certainty: he is lying to you.
"You're telling me Archer got so worked up by your blog that he came over to your house, bruised up your throat and then healed it?" she asked, eyebrows crooked. "Was that before or after he straight up told you he was a god?"