The shiver that ran through Lyra was fear mixed with a thrill at the idea of a whole-ass constellation turning its head in the sky and looking right at tiny old you. Fuck. "Roz, I've met faeries," she reminded her. "D'you know how faeries make you feel? They make you feel crazy. Or having a dad who can glow with the light of God or something? Crazy. Something-thousand dollars? Crazy. You ain't the crazy one. It's this whole..." What even was the word? Lyra circled her finger in the air, searching for it. "Situation. You'd only be crazy if it didn't make you feel crazy."
She squeezed her hand a little tighter, adamant. There was no way on god's green earth that Rosario was gonna go crazy, that squeeze said.
"Did Merlin help?" she asked, and there was a hope in her voice that belied the previous certaintly. People who were totally convinced that their friends weren't going crazy didn't need to hope that a wizard would help fix it, did they?
(Rosario just looked so tired, that was it. She was carrying too much, that was it too. Her mind was built for logic and logic wasn't what the world was giving her, and there was a bit of Lyra, just a bit, that worried Rosario's mind might not be able to totally hold up under that pressure.)