I recounted my experiences of the past day to the sounds of furious scribbling; the doctor wandering around the room either making notes or trying to distract me.

Meanwhile, mum sat next to my reclined chair and listened quietly, having been scolded by the note-taking automaton.

“Memories are susceptible to change. Interference will influence how he thinks of his experience, which will influence how he describes it,” she’d said, as if it explained anything, though mum gave the doctor a nod of understanding and left me to regale the events without further prompting. It just led to periods of loud silence while I thought of what to say, making the entire experience that much more awkward.

When I had finished the story, narrating up to the moment we had walked into the room, the doctor finally began asking questions, some of which she should've already known the answers to. Did I have siblings? What were my parent’s gifts? What were their jobs? Then she moved onto open ended questions about me. What did people think of me, and what did I like and not like about myself? It was an introspective experience to say the least, and by the time she was done, I suspected she knew me better than some of my classmates.

“So?” Mum said. “Is he changing?”

“Yes,” Okapi responded, not bothering to look up from her clipboard.

“And the fever, is it related to the change?”

“Of course it is. Sweating in the manner he described would've meant the fever was breaking, and yet he's still ill.”

“When will he stop being ill?”

“When the change is completed.” She finally looked up from her notes, turning to make eye contact. “‘Which should be soon.”

“Will–”

“What gift do I have?” I interrupted, asking the more important question. “Is it related to the ghosts I saw?”

“I don't believe they're ghosts, but yes, it is,” the doctor answered. “I believe I know what your gift is, but I won’t tell you. If I—”

“Why not?!”

“Kalak, don’t interrupt like that,” mum chided, before turning to apologise to Okapi. “I’m so sorry, he’s not usually like this.”

“It’s fine,” the doctor chuckled, the sound like a hollow chime of a bell. “My daughter isn't too different.” She then turned to look at me, a wintry smile on her lightly freckled face. I could see why dad didn’t like her. She was a pretty woman, but something about her cold grey eyes and empty laugh gave me the creeps, like she was a possessed doll masquerading emotions.

“As I was saying, Kalak, I'm not going to tell you what I think your gift is. If I did, I may influence the result. During the change, powers are in a state of flux. Unstable, rather. You shouldn’t worry about your gift. I’m sure you will be quite pleased with it.”

Hearing that from the lady with dead fish eyes didn’t give me much comfort. “Is it a blessing from the god of speed, at least?”

“Yes.”

“And it's to do with mirrors?” I asked, more confused than curious.

“Perhaps.”

The doctor then spoke to mum in a low voice, presumably about me, before handing her a prescription for some over-the-counter medicine on a piece of paper.

“It would have been great if you’d brought him in earlier,” Okapi said aloud. “I've just started looking at the biomechanics of the change.”

“If we’d known he was changing, we certainly would have,” mum replied, a trace of guilt in her voice.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“He's in the later stages of the change, but it would still be helpful to see him again in the next few days. He would be invaluable for my research.”

“Of course! It’s the least we can do.”

“That is kind of you. I'm sure you're busy though.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m sure we can drop by for half an hour tomorrow.”

The doctor chuckled again, something akin to nervous laughter. “It would be a little longer than half an hour.”

“Ah. Right…”

“If it makes it any easier, you can drop Kalak off and pick him up again?” She suggested, before shaking her head slightly and placing a hand on Mum's arm. “What am I saying? Don’t worry about it, Elara.”

“Nonsense. You’ve just given us so much of your time. I’m sure I could drop him off for a few hours. How about that Kalak?” She turned to look at me, the forced smile on her face wordlessly communicating that “no” was an unacceptable answer.

“That sounds great, mum!” I replied with false enthusiasm.

----------------------------------------

The rest of the morning’s journey was thankfully less eventful than the drive to Okapi’s clinic. We made a brief visit to the paediatrician's office, where the doctor cast a quick glance at me before assuring mum I'd get better on my own, and then a stop at the pharmacy to pick up whatever medicine Dr. Okapi had suggested.

Mum remained tight-lipped about their discussion, though I was certain she knew what gift I was developing despite her pretending otherwise. Convinced, I even resorted to eavesdropping on her conversation with dad when he came back from work. I stood on my tiptoes by the stairs, pressing one ear against the thin wall, only to jump when mum suddenly appeared in front of me with a frown on her face. It did confirm my suspicions, however; if it were a regular conversation, mum wouldn't have bothered using her gift to stop me from listening.

Undeterred, I tried my luck again in the evening. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner, and dad was lying down on the living room sofa, watching TV — it was the opportune moment to strike.

“Hi dad.” I casually walked into the room and casually took my usual position on the armchair adjacent to him.

“Hey champ. ‘How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright,” I replied — casually.

“Yeah? I heard you had a pretty rough morning,” he said, adjusting his position to get a clearer look at my face. “‘And rough night,” he belatedly added.

This was my chance. All I had to do was make him talk.

“Yeah, some strange things happened.” I slumped into the chair, relaxing myself, trying to look disinterested. “What did mum tell you?”

"Nothing in much detail. You've been seeing things in the mirrors?"

I hummed in acknowledgement. “I'm changing." Then, realising my folly, I raised the pitch of my voice in excitement to add, "I'm going to be faster than you!"

"Oh?" He quirked a questioning eyebrow. "And how's that?"

"Don't you know what my gift is?!"

"Nope. 'Want to tell me?"

I kept my face even, my heart thumping hard in my chest. Dad could’ve been lying, and if he wasn't going to tell me outright, I just had to glean information from what he did say. “Oh. I thought mum told you.” The disappointment in my voice was genuine, and I let it show, laying the foundation for my next trap — targeting dad's competitive ego. “Have a guess. What do you think my gift is? The hint is it’s related to speed."

"A speedstar?"

“Noooo, you’re not even trying,” I moaned. “A speedstar doesn't have anything to do with mirrors.”

“Oh, right!” He turned to the TV screen, pondering for a moment. “I don't know then… travelling via reflections? Like turning into a beam of light and reflecting off a mirror."

I hummed at the possibility. I had read about people with elemental powers turning into fire, water, and even smoke, so turning into light felt plausible. It seemed like a roundabout way to travel at the speed of light, but gifts were strange like that sometimes.

If dad were right, then it gave credibility to the doctor's statement that it wasn't a gift I would complain about. And It also felt like something the god of speed would bestow.

This led me to my next question. How far could I see through a mirror? After all, it would determine how far I'd be able to travel.

"Am I right?" Dad prodded in my silence.

"Hmm? Oh. Nope." I studied his face closer, noticing a fleeting shadow of disappointment. Did he really not know?

"Hey, love, can you prep the table, please?" Mum shouted from the kitchen.

"Well, I gotta run," dad smirked. "Let me know when you want to tell me, or better yet, when you want to race." He then gave a wink before flashing off to the dining room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and News2D running in the background. I moved to turn it off, searching the sofa dad had been lying on for the remote when the voice of the anchor caught my attention.

"—police are advising extreme caution to our viewers. If you spot the sedan, DO NOT approach the vehicle or the individual shown on your screens. If you have any information relevant to this case, please call 55—”

My breath caught in my throat, and my body froze in shock. That car, that face, with his dark skin, strange eyes, and sinister smile — he had driven past us, and I had seen him in our rear-view-mirror.

“Mum!” She appeared by my side in an instant, dad trailing behind her.

“What’s wrong, Kal?”

I gestured towards the screen, my words faltering as I tried to speak. “It's…him. I saw him.”