*Rory's Point of View*
The silence felt fake.
I sat at the edge of the couch, a blanket around my shoulders even though it wasn't cold. The warmth of the house felt distant, like it didn't belong to me anymore. My mug of cocoa had gone cold in my hands.
It hadn't even been an hour since the… episode. Since my eyes—*God, my eyes*—shifted. Yellow. Animal. Aerie had whispered things I didn't understand, then vanished, leaving me shaken and too afraid to breathe too deeply. I didn't even know whether I was human, maybe a witch, or… a werewolf. Wait, those things aren't even real.
I kept telling myself it wasn't real.
But I knew better.
I had looked in the mirror. And I had seen her. Him. *It*.
Then came the sound. A soft *clack-clack* from the stairs. Light footsteps. Laughter.
I turned, heart thudding hard.
River came into view first—her long black hair straightened to perfection, eyes lined sharply. She wore a sleek silver dress that shimmered with every step; her heels were too loud on the wood. She didn't even glance at me.
Behind her, Luna followed, always the prettier one—or at least, the one who thought so. Her deep purple dress clung to her like a model's outfit, and she twirled as she descended, smiling like a pageant queen. I caught a whiff of perfume as she passed—jasmine and something sugary.
And then came Mom.
She looked… radiant. Cream-colored dress, soft waves in her hair, subtle makeup. Her eyes were warm, her lips curled into that familiar, effortless smile—the kind that usually calmed me.
Not today.
"Happy birthday, my love," she said, gliding toward me like everything was fine. "Which time did you get home from school? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
What was I supposed to say? *I might be going crazy. My reflection wasn't mine. And I think I'm hearing a voice in my head that isn't mine either.*
"Is something wrong?" Mom asked, crouching slightly to meet my eyes.
I flinched without meaning to. "No. I just… didn't hear you upstairs earlier."
River snorted, plopping onto the couch across from me. "We've been getting ready forever. Don't tell me you forgot we planned this celebration?"
Luna flopped beside her. "Typical Rory. Always in her own little world."
I didn't answer.
They weren't worried.
It was like they'd hit reset.
I looked at Mom again. "You were really upstairs this whole time?"
She blinked. "Of course. Why wouldn't we be?"
I didn't know what to say. My hands were still trembling in my lap. I wrapped my fingers tighter around the mug, trying to feel something solid. Something real.
"We'll head out soon," Mom said, rising to smooth her dress. "The boardwalk's going to be beautiful today, and we have dinner reservations later. So go change into something nice, sweetheart."
She smiled at me like nothing was wrong—like today was just supposed to be a day of laughter and gifts and sugar.
But I felt like I was splintering on the inside.
Something had happened. Something real. And either they didn't know—or they were pretending not to.
I wasn't sure which one scared me more.