Ryan didn't sleep that night.
He sat in the rocking chair by the window, watching Mira's crib. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her tiny face peaceful. But he couldn't shake the image of her lips moving, mouthing the same words his reflection had spoken.
"Trying is enough."
He stood up and walked to her crib. She stirred but didn't wake. Her silver eyes were closed, her small hands curled into fists.
"Trying is enough," he whispered to himself.
He wasn't sure if he believed it.
---
Dawn came slowly, painting the cottage in shades of grey and gold.
Ryan made coffee, standing at the window, watching the yard. The silver circle was gone. The reflection was gone. Everything was normal.
Except it wasn't.
Mira woke at seven, sitting up in her crib like a tiny adult. "Morning
