With the mirror cracking more each day, Ashar’s form began to fade into mist. Aanya tried desperately to find a way to fix it, typing out frantic messages to occult experts, searching the internet, crying late into the night. She wrote long paragraphs in her notes app about how completely he had overtaken her soul, how terrified she was of days without him—but she always hit backspace. How could a human girl ask an immortal creature of fire to stay and suffer just for her sake? She chose his freedom over her attachment.