Edwin stepped forward and held out his hand. Sarah accepted it without hesitation and rose to her feet.

“You should get some physical training from Caligo.”

She said, grinning teasingly. Edwin chuckled at her joke, but his gaze soon shifted to her hand. There was a bead of blood clinging to her thumb — the same one she had bitten to activate her ability.

Realizing where he was looking, Sarah quickly hid her hand behind her back and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing.”

After three years of brutal training, she had grown accustomed to cuts and bruises.

However, Edwin frowned and gently pulled her hand back towards him.

“Nothing? Hardly.”

He reached into his pocket, took out a handkerchief and carefully wrapped it around her injured thumb.

Sarah scratched her cheek, feeling embarrassed.

“Alice told me to use pins only, not to hurt myself again… she’s going to scold me when she sees this.”

“Are you actually afraid of Alice’s scolding?”

He looked at her with a faint look of disapproval and asked her something.

Wanting to change the subject, Sarah smiled and said something.

“You haven’t seen Mirabel yet, have you? You’ll be surprised how much she’s grown in the last year. I was just on my way to visit her. Would you like to come with me?”

Edwin, who’d been about to lecture her further, paused, then let out a small sigh, giving in.

“Fine.”

Relieved, Sarah exhaled softly and took the lead.

Whenever Edwin scolded her with that stern expression, she was reminded of her late father. Perhaps because of that, she now felt completely at ease in his presence.

It wasn’t just Edwin, though.

In the three years since she arrived in Konstan, her life had changed beyond recognition.

Initially, she had joined out of hatred, driven by vengeance and spite, sustained only by venom.

But living among others who had suffered similar wounds, training and fighting alongside them, and watching Mirabel grow day by day, the pain she thought would never heal began to fade.

The desire for revenge remained, but it no longer burned as it once had.

As these thoughts passed through her mind, she and Edwin reached what looked like a playroom. Most of the children here were orphans or being raised by a single irregular parent. While the adults were busy with training or missions, Alice gathered the children here for lessons disguised as games.

Through the clear glass, Sarah saw Alice creating shimmering illusions in mid-air, which the children laughed and clapped at.

“Now then, who can find the cat?”

Animals drawn as though with crayons frolicked in the air under Alice’s spell. The younger children, aged four or five, were far too enthralled by the moving pictures to pay much attention to the lesson.

Among them was a little girl with bright red hair like Sarah’s and emerald-green eyes that sparkled like gemstones. She pointed at the illusion above with a chubby finger.

“There it is!”

A cat sat on nothing, calmly grooming itself.

Alice smiled warmly and patted the girl’s head.

“Mirabel found it first again, didn’t she?”

The other children began to clamor instantly, their small mouths opening and closing like baby birds.

“Do it again! Do it again!”
“I like the bunny!”

Pushed aside by the crowd, Mirabel stepped back quietly, standing alone near the corner.

Alice called out softly, trying to coax her.

“Mirabel, come here, why don’t you help your friends find the other animals?”

But Mirabel just shook her head and took another step back to avoid their gaze.

Sarah watched through the glass, biting her lip in frustration.

Beside her, Edwin spoke gently.

“Mirabel… she’s still the same, isn’t she?”

Sarah nodded slowly.

“Yes. Ever since that day, she hasn’t spoken much and she’s terrified of getting close to anyone.”

Mirabel had the power to read minds and, possibly, to control other people’s minds using that same ability.

Perhaps that was why she learned so quickly.

When she was just three years old — an age at which most children could barely string a few words together — she was already speaking in full sentences, albeit with a clumsy, childish accent.

But despite her brilliance, she was still just a child. Her innocent questions often revealed truths that were too heavy for others to bear.

Once, after catching a glimpse of a classmate’s thoughts, she asked a question.

“Why’s Loony’s mama in the ground?”

Loony was a child whose mother had been killed by hunting hounds before his father brought him to Konstan.

Mirabel didn’t yet understand what death meant. Her question was innocent and pure, yet it reduced Loony to tears.

Sarah later learned that, from that day on, her daughter had begun to realise that not everything she saw was meant to be said aloud.

There were more incidents like it afterwards. But the one that truly changed everything happened one quiet evening, when Sarah and Mirabel were sharing dinner.

Mirabel had been watching her carefully, her eyes downcast, before finally speaking in a small, trembling voice.

“Mom…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Sarah smiled and replied, not thinking much of it.

But the words that followed froze her on the spot.

“Why does Daddy hate us…?”

Sarah froze.

It was shocking enough that Mirabel understood the concept of a father, but the meaning behind her words made Sarah’s blood run cold.

The child had looked into her mother’s mind and seen the part that still remembered Carlos.

Carlos.

The man who had betrayed her. The man who wouldn’t have hesitated to destroy his own family.

Mirabel had caught a glimpse of the dark, festering corners of her mother’s heart — the hatred, bitterness and grief that she had buried deep, mistaking them for truth.

To her young, innocent mind, it was simple: Daddy must hate her and Mommy.

Sarah’s thoughts went blank. The spoon slipped from her trembling hand and clattered onto the table.

She covered her mouth, staring at her daughter in horror.

But the child, startled by her mother’s ashen face, looked even more frightened. Tears welled in her bright eyes.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Mommy… h-hic… Mirabel said something weird again, didn’t I…?”

It was the first time Mirabel had ever seen her mother look like that. The little girl began to cry, her voice breaking between sobs as she apologized repeatedly.

Sarah pulled her daughter into her arms and wept with her for a very long time.

“No, sweetheart… Mommy’s the one who’s sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong… Mommy’s sorry…”

She repeated the words over and over again, holding the tiny body close to her heart.

From that day on, Mirabel stopped speaking.

Alice later diagnosed her with selective mutism, a condition which may resolve itself over time with the right emotional support. However, despite these reassuring words, Sarah couldn’t shake off the guilt that she was responsible for her daughter’s silence.

Due to her ability to see into people’s minds through their eyes, Mirabel had grown afraid of getting close to anyone.

This was why she avoided other children and always stood alone.

Sarah’s gaze softened with sorrow as she watched through the glass.

Just then, Mirabel seemed to notice her. The little girl turned her head, and when their eyes met, her face instantly brightened.

Forgetting all her heavy thoughts, Sarah hurried inside.

“Mirabel!”

At her call, the girl ran into her arms with a radiant smile.

“Kyahaha—!”

Instead of words, Mirabel let out a clear, bell-like laugh pure and bright as glass.

Sarah kissed her daughter’s forehead, reminding herself not to rush, not to force it.

“Guess who Mommy brought with her today?”

Mirabel’s eyes widened when she spotted Edwin. Her face lit up and she held out her little arms towards him.

Edwin smiled warmly and went over to her.

“Well now, let’s see how much our princess has grown.”

He lifted the giggling child high above his head.

“Kyahaha—!”

Her joyful laughter filled the room like sunlight.

The other children watched enviously and soon scurried closer.

“Mister! Do me too!”
“Mister! Me, me!”

Feigning a serious look, Edwin shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m for Mirabel only.”

“Aww—!”
“That’s not fair!”

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh. Her smile was tender and full of warmth.

She believed that Mirabel would speak again someday, and that when that day came, her voice would be as bright and clear as her laughter was at that moment.