When Lyra had told Rosario her Vegas plans, Rosario had physically winced. The spike of dread she'd felt had nothing to do with premonition (she didn't think) and everything to do with the commonsense knowledge that casinos existed to take people's money and every game was weighted towards the house and every single element of architecture and decor and and scent and sound were laser-targeted at the brain's pleasure centres to keep you playing and spending. Lyra chased adrenaline; Rosario could already see it going bad.
Lyra was never gonna be deterred, though. The fact that the odds were stacked against her had probably made it even more irresistible.
But it had worked. Lyra had pitted her demigod luck against the house and she'd won and the crazy thing was, Rosario couldn't even be entirely surprised?
Cuz that was Lyra to a T. Like, since they were kids. She was always the girl who took the craziest chances, and sometimes it blew up in her face, but when it paid off, it paid off in the craziest ways.
Since they were kids.
The stars said they miss you. You used to talk to them, but you stopped listening.
God. That opened a whole other line of thought that Rosario was not at all ready for, but Lyra still had the talking stick, and Lyra was digging around in her coat and—
"Ho-lee fuck." Rosario's mouth dropped open as Lyra deposited the roll of cash in her hand. She'd been expecting something from the souvenir shop. "How much did you win?"