“Yeah. You gave me that mirror before you left for school, and you told me it was a magic mirror. Like I could leave you—” “—magical voicemails,” she breathed. It was coming back to her. “Oh my god, I did, I told you that, and then—” “I didn’t figure it out for months,” I said. “I kept sending you messages and waiting to get one back, and I never did. It took me until Christmas to figure it out.
