“I remember exactly what I said,” he replied, his voice noticeably sharper.
I opened my mouth to answer—
But a second clear chime cut through the silence.
My attention snapped back to the glowing spheres.
This time...
Aquarius lit up.
Cold blue light spread across the chamber.
And words began appearing across the mirror with unsettling precision.
“I spent my life condemning uniqueness,
fearing all that shattered my perfect plan.
I called it an enemy—
until, too late,
I learned to call it a friend.”
It felt as though I'd stolen every breath from the room.
Ruël's words had uncovered one of the deepest wounds hidden inside me.
The very first lines demanded reflection.
They made me want to hide.
To shut the world out.
To run.
I sensed Airis moving toward me slowly.
I didn't move.
Not even when his hand settled gently on my shoulder.
“I hate that I can't see it myself,” he said quietly.
A pause.
As though he were searching for the one approach that wouldn't make me fall apart.
“And that I'll have to ask you to read it aloud.”
I hesitated.
Doubted.
Feared.
“If I say it out loud...” I swallowed hard.