We hid in the skeleton of a ruined shop.

  A broken vanity mirror hung crooked on the scorched wall, reflecting the flickering embers outside.

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  I turned toward it, needing to see whether I still looked like a man—or something worse.

  But the mirror betrayed me.

  I expected to see my own face.

  Instead, it showed her reflection standing behind me, glowing softly in the firelight.

  For a moment it felt as if I had disappeared.

  As if the man who lit the fire no longer existed.

  And in his place stood someone who had lost himself completely.