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It was a summer day the likes of which only stories tell. The kind of day when the meadows breathed and the light whispered through the leaves. Mina sat on her favorite stone at the edge of the small pond, which everyone in the village called the "Duck Mirror." Not because of its clarity, but because the ducks in it never seemed to fight—quite unlike humans. She wore her mustard-yellow dress, which looked like buttercups when she moved, and her straw hat with the red ribbon that her grandmother had sewn for her two summers ago. Her feet dangled barefoot in the water, which was cool and friendly. One of the ducks swam close, looking at her—as if she knew something. "You think I should tell them, too, don't you?" whispered Mina. The duck was silent. But she blinked—slowly—and kept paddling. Mina was sure: Tomorrow she would do it. Tell them. That she wasn't like the other girls in the village. That she understood the language of the ducks. And that she could see the small glow that sometimes danced over the water when no one was looking. But today… today was another day for silence. For waiting. For listening to the sun caressing the pond and the mountains breathing shallowly. In this silence among the ducks, she was completely herself. And that, for a moment, was all she needed.