"Are we going to the sociopath's place, then?" I asked, putting on the car's seat belt.

"Kalak! You don't go around calling people that," mum reprimanded.

"But that's what dad said."

"Dad was wrong to say that. Just because other people do something wrong doesn't mean you can too."

"Yes, mum." My eyes rolled on reflex and I counted myself lucky that she didn’t see from the rear-view mirror, or the lecture would have continued. "So, are we going to her place, then?"

"Yes, just to see what she thinks. We'll go to the paediatrician afterwards."

"Then why are we visiting the so- the first doctor?"

Mum sighed. "Okapi isn't a regular doctor. She has a doctorate, making her a doctor, but she's not like the hospital kind. She knows a lot about gifts, but she can't prescribe medicine."

I hummed in response, letting my voice blend with the rhythmic purr of the car engine as mum started the ignition. It was an oddly comforting sound that, combined with the gentle rocking motion whilst the car started moving, made my eyelids feel heavy. It only took a few minutes before I gave in and closed my eyes, resting my head against the cool glass. And a few more minutes after that, I reluctantly opened them again, the blasted light from the sun determined to keep me awake, flashing between the canopy of leaves.

I was deprived of sleep yet again, and so I turned my gaze to the outside world and watched the scenery blur by; evergreen trees dancing in a kaleidoscope of swirling needles and textured bark.

“Bloody rain,” Mum swore under her breath as a white sedan blitzed past us, and my attention shifted to the side-view mirror, half expecting a police car to be in pursuit.

"I wonder where he's going," I mused, finding only the cerulean sides of our car instead.

"To an early grave," mum replied, her voice disapproving.

Our car came to a gradual stop, and I glanced up at the traffic light before returning to the reflected world. The other driver must've run the red. If he could teleport, he wouldn't have needed to — my thought trailed off as the mirror began to turn misty before my eyes.

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I blinked firmly, dispelling any drowsiness before proceeding to rub the window, ensuring the fog wasn't from my breath. It wasn't. Was the outside getting colder?

The car lurched forward again, but my eyes remained transfixed with the mirror, watching the collage of motion turn cloudy, the sharp outlines of trees become less distinct and dissolve into a swirling mist. It spun faster and faster, increasing in frenzy, turning into a vortex.

And then it cleared. Almost as abruptly as it had transformed, the side mirror revealed the familiar sight of the asphalt road and towering spruce trees, but there was a glaring difference: the side of the car was no longer blue, but white, marred by unsettling red stains.

My mind reeled back to the memories of the night and I anxiously called out, "Mum? There’s something wrong with the mirror."

"The mirror?" she repeated. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's… white."

"What does that mean?"

"Just look. Please?"

"This ‘better not be a prank."

"It's not."

She let out a small sigh. "It looks fine."

"Did you look?"

"Yes," she reassured me.

"The side one," I said, turning to face her in the rearview mirror. "The one on—"

The half-formed sentence caught in my throat, choked by sheer terror as my gaze met where hers should be in the reflection, her azure eyes a hollow void and pale skin an ebony black.

The distorted figure of a man had replaced mum's reflection, his lips curled in a sinister smile.

My heart thundered in my chest, and I instinctively shut my eyes tight. Whimpered prayers escaped my lips, and my breathing turned into ragged gasps.

"Kalak. Hey, Kalak!"

Something grabbed my knees, and I jolted in surprise.

"Kalak? What's wrong with you?" Mum's pleading voice finally pierced through my terror, and I stammered in response.

"Th- the mirrors."

"There's nothing wrong with the mirrors." Her voice took on a soothing tone. "Look at me. Sweetie, look at me," she repeated gently, and I cracked my eyes open to find her palms on my knees, and her body contorted so she could face me in the back seat, concern etched into her brow. "Everything's fine."

My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, finding the chandeliered layers of mum's black hair before my gaze darted to the side mirror where the cerulean of the car had returned.

“See?” Mum said, regaining my attention. "Everything's fine, hun."

"Th-there… was a man... in the mirror." I paused to take in a deep breath, trying to regain control of my racing heart. "Y-you weren't there. He took your reflection."

I almost jumped when in an instant, mom was facing the road again, her hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, their reassuring weight no longer on my knees. Despite seeing her gift in action many times before, it was still jarringly abrupt.

"I think it's your power, hun,” she said, her brows furrowed in the reflection. “I think you're changing."