“It’s not just a mirror,” Bo continued, his tone measured, although there was something quieter beneath it that almost bordered on respect.
“It was designed to show things as they truly are. No illusion. No distortion. Just…truth.”
The word lingered, as I had been right. Something about it felt far too close to what I had just seen, to the file still clutched in my hand. But also, to the fragile uncertainty now threading its way through everything I thought I understood.
“In the old world,” he added, his gaze lowering briefly to the relic,
“Truth wasn’t something you claimed. It was something you proved, and Veritas was the Goddess of truth.”
My breath slowed slightly, my focus narrowing on the mirror as something deeper seemed to hum beneath its surface.
“They used to depict her in two ways,” he continued, quieter now.
“Clothed in white, untouched, pure. Or as nuda veritas… the naked truth. No veil. No disguise. Just what is.”
A faint shiver slipped down my spine at that. Because the way he said it didn’t feel like history, but it felt more like a warning.
“The Greeks called her Aletheia,” he went on, almost absently, though his eyes had lifted back to mine now, watching closely.
“Truth laid bare.”
My fingers tightened slightly at my sides as I looked at the mirror again, something uneasy settling low in my chest. Because I understood what he was telling me without him having to say it outright. This wasn’t about what I believed or what Oblivion believed. This was about what fate saw in me.
And whether I was ready or not to see it.
“If you’re what he thinks you are,” Bo said, his voice quieter now, steady in a way that left no room for doubt,
“This will show you your true self.”
My throat tightened as I stepped closer, the mirror tilting slightly in his hand as it angled toward me. And for one tiny, hopeful moment, I caught myself staring back at me, waiting for it to show me more. But it didn’t. It showed nothing more than my fragile expression, one that I barely recognized.
My fingers lifted slowly, my breath catching as I reached out and touched the surface. As I waited for something, anything, that might justify the weight of the moment pressing in around us. But there was nothing. No warmth, no shift, no recognition, only my own reflection staring back at me unchanged, unremarkable, and painfully ordinary.
The silence stretched just long enough to settle something heavy in my chest before I pulled my hand back. My fingers curling faintly as though they had expected more, as though they had been waiting for something that had simply never come.
The silent devastation sank in deep and pierced my heart as I realized, once and for all, Wye and I could never be together. I hated how the tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop them regardless. I simply shook my head and told him,
“No…”I breathed, quieter this time, because there was nothing left to argue against.
“Wye… he…he was wrong,”I said as my eyes tore from the mirror, as though I could no longer stand seeing my ownreflection there. My image was forever tainted now by the memory of this day.
The day my heart broke.
“If he finds out…” I said slowly, my voice tightening as the thought formed fully,
“…if he… realizes he’s wrong, then he’s the one who will pay for it, isn’t he?” Bo nodded, telling me all I needed to know. Because this was no longer about what I was or wasn’t, but about him. It was about what he had already risked, and what it would cost him if it had all been for the wrong reason.
Bo didn’t interrupt, and he didn’t need to. Because I was already there, already making the decision before I had even fully admitted it to myself.
“We have to leave,” I stated after slapping down the file I still had clutched in one hand, leaving it on the counter as I walked to the door.
“Better be quick, girly, I am not sure how long my diversion is going to last.” I gave him a brief nod and slipped out of the room, unable to look at the bed, as the memory of being there with him was too raw. Too painful…too shattering.
Tears were falling, despite trying to hold it together long enough to get dressed. I barely even looked at what I was grabbing from my bag, pulling things out as if on autopilot. Droplets of water still clung to my messy strands, dripping on my bare shoulders as I put on my underwear. I then dragged a pair of light blue jeans up my legs, rolled down a burgundy t-shirt, and then zipped up a navy-blue hoodie. I didn’t even bother with socks, too concerned about time as I stuffed my feet into a pair of white sneakers.
Of course, I had no real clue as to where we were going, I only knew of the urgency to leave this place. To leave Wye, with the hopes that he would soon learn the truth for himself and that he, too, would realize it was for the best.
Although right now, not even these thoughts helped ease the pain I felt in knowing that I would never see him again.
