But the Ronan in the mirror was a young man. A little handsome, he saw, to his surprise, like his father had been at his age, and he could see that as he got older, he’d probably be a lot handsome. Normally he did not think his outside appearance at all reflected who he really was on the inside, but this mirror showed him an exterior Ronan just as complicated as the interior Ronan. The mirror presented a guarded bruiser, but one whose eyebrows gave away startling gentleness. There was a cruel and arrogant dismissiveness in this Ronan’s face, but also bravery. The line of his mouth held at once a crumple of depression and the shape of a grin. Anger simmered in his eyes, but so did an intense, savage humor.

To his shock, he found he liked the person in the mirror.

“They’re quite cunning, aren’t they?” Bryde said. “No one likes photographs of themselves. And the mirror has never had a reputation for kindness. But these do, don’t they, Rhiannon?”

Ronan joined Hennessy by her mirror, which had a fat gilt frame like an old painting. In it he saw the two of them, fast friends, a Ronan capable of trusting someone without his last name, a Hennessy capable of caring about someone without her face.

Hennessy muttered, “I look like Jordan.”

“What do they do?” Ronan growled.

“What do you think they do, Ronan?” Bryde asked.

He didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt too earnest. Was this reflection the truth? Or was it what he wanted to be true?

“How often do you dream one of these mirrors, Rhiannon?” Bryde asked.

She was still blustery and flattered. “Oh, I don’t know. It takes me quite a while. I have to get them together over a lot of dreams; it takes me a lot of concentration and if I’m busy with other things I put them down for quite a while. This is all that I’ve ever done except for one, and I’ve been dreaming them since I was a little girl. They take me five years, maybe? I don’t know. I don’t keep track, I just putter along on them. I’m glad you like them.”

Ronan considered the sort of person she must be that all she dreamt was mirrors that were kind to people. Not physically flattering, but truly kind. The invisible car felt a little stupid in comparison.

He put his fingers to his temple. He was beginning to feel hungry again. He didn’t know if it was real hunger, or if it was the same thing he had felt in the fast-food restaurant.