Lyra didn't sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the fountain — and her reflection smiling on its own.
By morning, the feeling hadn't faded.
She splashed water on her face, looked up, and froze.
The mirror smiled a second too late.
Her breath caught. "Not again…"
Down in the hall, Mira was struggling with her toast. "Why does vampire bread taste like sadness?"
"Because it's made without sunlight," Ryn said dryly.
"That's tragic," she muttered, taking another bite anyway.
Lyra walked in, pale. Aiden noticed instantly. "You didn't rest."
"Something's wrong with the reflections," she said quietly.
Ceal's head lifted. "They're mimicking?"
"More like… watching," she whispered.
The room went silent. Even Mira stopped chewing.
Later, they checked the fountain.
The water was still, but their reflections seemed… off.
Lune's moved half a second behind. Ryn's blinked slower. Mira's waved when she didn't.
"Okay," Mira said, backing up. "I officially hate this."
Ceal crouched by the edge. "Residual link to the other side," he murmured. "The Veil is mirroring your souls… badly."
"Like a broken camera?" Mira asked.
"Exactly," he said. "Except this one stares back."
Lyra knelt beside him. "Can we fix it?"
"Eventually. But first—figure out who it's copying," Aiden said, his tone low.
That night, Lyra stood by the window.
The moonlight hit her reflection again… and for an instant, the image's eyes weren't hers.
They were Loren's.
And they looked scared.
"Lyra… it's not just the Veil that's cracking."
The glass trembled—then went still.