The ward's walls pressed closer with every breath. His name echoed hollow inside him—Ty, Ty, Ty—until it no longer felt like his own.
And then, one night, the mirror betrayed him entirely.
When he blinked, the reflection wasn't him at all. It was the other boy, full and complete. Softer features, frightened eyes, trembling lips.
Ty slammed his fists into the glass. "You're not real!"
The boy didn't flinch. His lips moved.
Soon.
The word cut through Ty like ice water.
The staff began writing the word progress in their reports. Ty began feeling the word end.
He wasn't being healed.
He was being replaced.