Gil watches the glass tower turn like a figurine on a broken music box. He looks as if he’s haunted by it. “One day, if you manage to survive here long enough, you’ll start to feel like this place is a prison too. And it won’t matter that you’re safe; all you’ll ever notice is that the door is locked and you don’t have the key.”

He disappears through the doorway, and I’m alone again, staring at the glowing hologram, wondering if maybe Gil is right.

“Come on. Change. Change!” I growl into the mirror.

My hair remains as dark as ever.

I let out a heavy sigh. Shura told me some people find it easier to shift things that are equal parts superficial and familiar, like hair and nails. It makes sense in some ways, since those are things a lot of people already have experience with changing.

But it’s not easy for me. It’s impossible.

“Want some company?” Shura’s voice chirps from the doorway. When I shrug, she half skips toward me and stops in front of the mirror.

Side by side our faces are polarizing, like an enchantment of ravens lost in a sky of cotton candy. I used to think Mei and I were so different from each other, but maybe we weren’t that different at all.

I miss my sister.

Shura looks over my hair carefully, like she’s searching for even the tiniest anomaly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” I admit.

“Everyone learns at a difference pace,” Shura offers. “And some people just need to find their mental sweet spot. It’s like uncovering a hidden talent you didn’t know about.”

I grimace. Making telepathic phone calls to Ophelia is probably not the talent she had in mind.

Lately I’ve wondered if being able to communicate with Ophelia was inevitable, considering all the years we spent interacting through my O-Tech watch. Is that why it was so easy for me? Because we had a connection in life, however one-sided it may have been?

There must be other humans in Infinity who used to talk to Ophelia the way I did. Have any of them discovered they can reach her too? Have they tried more than once? And maybe most importantly, what were the consequences?

I know it’s probably safer not to reach out to her again, but I can’t help but wonder—if it was safe and I knew for sure she couldn’t track me—could there be something to gain by communicating with the enemy?

Shura tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear, eyes processing my reflection. “Have you ever noticed Ahmet’s scar?”

I release my thoughts on Ophelia and turn to face her, curious. “I wondered about that. Everyone else seems so unmarked in comparison. Like maybe scars were the first things to vanish after death.”