Steam clung to the bathroom mirror like a stubborn memory, curling around the edges and clouding the glass. Sumaya stood motionless in front of it, a towel wrapped snugly around her body, the air still heavy with the scent of her body wash. Her eyes, dark and uncertain, locked onto the reflection of her shoulder.
That crescent-shaped birthmark stared right back at her.
It looked so… normal. Ordinary. Just another part of her skin that most people would never even glance at twice. Yet here it was, carrying weight no one had bothered to asked her if she even wants to bear.
Her hand lifted slowly, almost hesitantly, and her fingers traced the soft curve of the mark. "So this is it?" she murmured under her breath, voice low and flat. This is what makes me the so-called Moon Child?
It didn't feel magical. It didn't feel like some prophecy-etched sign or destined symbol.
It just felt like her. Familiar skin. A mark she'd seen since she was old enough to look in mirrors.
