The shattered mirrors exploded outward with a sound like bones snapping. The air went still—then split. The Collector hovered above them now, her eyes two pits of endless black, her mouth stretched impossibly wide.
"You came with fire in your hearts," she crooned. "Let's see what burns first."
She waved a clawed hand.
Instantly, the ground beneath them gave way. Not physically—but emotionally.
Amanda gasped as the shop around her faded. She was back in the living room, the night Shawn first said the word "divorce." The argument was louder, crueler. She saw herself slamming a door. Then Mira—only twelve—crying silently, clutching a blanket.
"I'm the reason," Amanda whispered, frozen. "She thought it was her…"
Across from her, Shawn stumbled backward into his own illusion. He stood in Mira's room. It was empty. Dust-covered. Forgotten. A voice whispered, "She left because you weren't strong enough. You couldn't protect her."
Monroe's vision fractured into the morgue. A body under a sheet. A mistake. A child she hadn't saved. The voice of doubt echoing: "You're chasing phantoms again. You always lose them in the end."
Even Elias faltered, eyes glazed over as he stood in a battlefield of broken talismans and ancient scrolls burned to ash. "I was too late," he muttered. "Always too late…"
And Mira—Mira knelt in the center of it all. She watched her parents scream, cry, disappear again and again. She saw herself at birthday parties, blowing out candles alone. She saw Ruby laughing—and then turning into porcelain. The Collector's voice coiled around her:
"You were the problem. The glue that broke them apart. You wanted too much."
Tears spilled down Mira's face. "Maybe… maybe if I wish for nothing… it'll all stop."
The Collector smiled wide. "Yes. Say it. Make the third wish—make it disappear."
But just as Mira parted her lips—
She heard her mother's voice cut through the noise like a bell. Clear. True.
"You are the best thing that's ever happened to us, Mira!"
The illusion cracked.
Amanda staggered forward, through the false walls, through her own grief and guilt, and fell to her knees before Mira. She cupped her daughter's face, eyes streaming. "You are our joy, Mira. You were never the problem. You are our happiness."
Mira blinked. The spell was breaking.
"I don't want this," she said through gritted teeth. "I want things to go back to normal. I want my real life."
The Collector screamed. "NO!"
A whirlwind of black mist burst from her body as Mira's final, real wish took hold.
But before the magic could complete, the Collector hurled a curse—wild, crackling energy aimed at Mira, Amanda, and Shawn.
"ENOUGH!" Elias roared.
From beneath his robes, he drew a small mirror—framed in iron, etched with runes that shimmered gold.
The moment the curse touched it, the mirror glowed blinding white.
The magic reversed—slamming back into the Collector like a tidal wave. She howled, trying to claw away from the light, but it consumed her. Her shadow stretched, splintered… then shattered like the mirrors around her.
Silence.
Then warmth.
The hallway of mirrors faded.
The shop returned.
The doll on the table was now cracked. Lifeless.
And Mira stood in the center of the circle—real. Alive. Herself.
Amanda ran to her. So did Shawn. They pulled her into their arms, sobbing.
Monroe smiled faintly. Elias leaned heavily on his staff, exhausted but relieved.
The curse was broken.
But the shadows that made it… still lingered in the forgotten places of the world.