I didn’t look away.
I leaned in closer.
The gold shimmer in my eyes was faint, like candlelight behind frosted glass—but it was there.
Real.
Alive.
Not a trick of the light.
Not exhaustion or imagination.
It pulsed once, then faded.
And just like that, the girl in the mirror was mine again.
But she didn’t look like me anymore.
She looked like someone who knew something dangerous was blooming just beneath her skin.
Someone who couldn’t pretend to be normal, no matter how hard she tried.
I backed away from the mirror and turned off the light.
That night, I didn’t dream.
Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t remember it.
All I knew was that when I opened my eyes the next morning, I didn’t feel like Aurora Hayes anymore.
I felt… other.
Not fully changed.
Not awakened.
But
