The door opened again.
This time it was a woman who stepped inside. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like each step had to be forced out of her. Her eyes darted around the room before landing on Kaelen.
"My name is… Evelyn," she whispered. "Evelyn Cross."
Lyra moved forward with her usual quiet grace. "Sit, Evelyn. You're safe here."
Safe. The word was almost a lie, but it always loosened their grip on panic. Evelyn obeyed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She looked like someone bracing for judgment in a courtroom she didn't believe in.
Kaelen stood behind the counter, unmoving. "You know why you are here."
Evelyn's head shook quickly. "No. I don't understand. I… I just remember lying down. My chest hurt. And then—" She cut herself off, breath catching. "This is a dream. It has to be."
"No dream," Kaelen said. His voice carried no cruelty, no comfort. Just truth.
"You are dead."
Evelyn's lips trembled. She pressed her hands together as though in prayer. "Then what happens now?"
Lyra leaned closer, her tone softer. "Now comes the judgment."
The mirror appeared. Smooth, silver, merciless. Evelyn flinched at the sight of it.
At first, the reflection showed her sitting quietly. Then it shifted. The face of a boy appeared—ten years old, laughing, reaching for her. Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
"My son," she whispered. "Noah."
The memory shifted again. Noah is crying in a crib. Evelyn is sitting in another room, a cigarette between her fingers, staring at nothing. The cries grew louder. She didn't move.
Evelyn covered her face with her hands. "No… no, don't show me this."
Kaelen's voice cut through. "Truth cannot be hidden here."
The mirror flashed again. A teenage boy now—angry, hollow-eyed. He shouted at her, voice breaking, words sharp with blame. Evelyn sat at the table, silent. Always silent.
Lyra's voice cracked faintly as she asked, "Why didn't you speak to him? He needed you."
"I didn't know how," Evelyn said, her own voice trembling. "Every time he cried, every time he looked at me—I froze. I was scared I'd make it worse. I thought silence was better than saying the wrong thing."
The mirror's final memory came sharp and cruel: Noah, grown, standing on a bridge in the dark. His face was streaked with tears. His last words were lost to the night before the plunge.
Evelyn sobbed so hard her whole body shook. "I didn't tell him I loved him. Not once. Not once!"
Lyra turned to Kaelen, her eyes fierce, pleading. "She wasn't cruel. She was afraid. That fear consumed her."
Kaelen stepped forward, his gaze locked on Evelyn.
"Fear does not absolve. Love unspoken is love denied."
Evelyn lifted her head, her face raw with grief. "Then what am I? A monster? A coward? Please… give me another chance. Let me tell him I love him."
Kaelen raised his hand. The room seemed to hold its breath.
"Your soul has been weighed."
Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut. She braced for the void.
But Kaelen's voice shifted, low and final.
"Reincarnation."
The floor didn't split. The darkness didn't come. Instead, the mirror dissolved into light. Evelyn's sobs broke into something softer—relief.
"Thank you…" she whispered, before the light consumed her.
Silence returned.
Lyra exhaled, tension bleeding from her shoulders. She looked at Kaelen. "You showed mercy."
Kaelen didn't answer. His eyes remained on the fading light, unreadable.
High above, Aurelius watched. And in the dark, the smallest trace of a smile touched his lips—though it was not a kind one.
The door waited. Another soul would come.