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They faced each other, breathing heavily.

"Daddy," she sobbed. "Why did you do this?"

With shaking hands, her father lifted the mirror to his face, as if afraid to see what it would show. He watched for a long moment.

"It's the memory circle," he whispered. "She remembers. Oh, my God, Lena. She remembers." Tears filled his eyes. "After all this time ... I can't believe it." He grabbed Lena and hugged her to his chest, weeping with an anguish she had never seen before. "I waited for so many years. But she never came back, and I knew ... I knew her memories were gone."

Lena wept, too, not knowing what her father meant, only knowing that her mother was alive, and finally, she was going to find out the truth. She stayed in her father's embrace for a long time, while he rocked her back and forth.

After they stopped crying and looked into the mirror again, they found that it reflected only their faces. The magic had run out.

"It will only show you those you love for a few minutes," said her father. "Otherwise, you would never be able to put it down. You wouldn't be able to tear yourself away." He looked sadly at his own reflection in the mirror's surface. "I learned that soon enough."

"Daddy, please," said Lena. "Please tell me everything."

But her father seemed to be aging in front of Lena's eyes, his broad shoulders bent with loss. He sat down on the bed, as if unable to support his weight another minute. He looked at the open chest, its contents scattered. "How did you open this? I keep my key hidden away from home. Did you pick the lock?"

Lena sat down next to him. "She gave me the key." Seeing his confusion, she added, "The mermaid..." She hesitated, then spoke the words aloud: "My mother ...gave me the key."

Her dad turned to stare at her, his expression shifting from confused to stunned. "You broke the spell." He took her by the shoulders. "Sweetheart. She saw you. And she finally remembered." He closed his eyes, and another tear slid down his cheek.

"I ... what?"

He let go of her and stared down at the mirror again, as if it might reignite purely from desire, showing him the image of his lost love once more. Then his lips twisted and he shoved the mirror at Lena. "Here. Take it. I nearly lost my mind to this thing once before. I can't even touch it without feeling like insanity is just around the corner. It's yours now, anyway. The comb, too."

Lena pressed them to her heart. She took the key out of the lock and hung it around her neck again. Now she had all of her mother's gifts.

All except one. She walked across the room and picked up the crumpled letter on the floor.

Her dad looked at the envelope, and closed his eyes again for an instant. "Your letter," he said.

"When did she write it?" asked Lena.

He took a few breaths before he was able to answer. "Not long after you were born. She wanted—" He paused again to control his emotion. "She wanted to explain in her own words ... in case something happened to her. She wanted you to understand, when you were old enough."

"Understand what?"

Her dad closed the trunk. "Your mother left us because she found her cloak. That made her forget ... everything. But now, after all these years, she remembers." He touched Lena's cheek. "She saw you. And she remembered."

Lena stared, wanting to understand.

"Let's go downstairs," he said. "I ... I need a drink. I mean—" He tried to smile. "I could use a strong whiskey, but I'll settle for a glass of water."

Lena slid the letter in her back pocket. She didn't want to read it yet. She followed her dad down the stairs, still holding the mirror and comb.

Her dad went into the kitchen. Lena followed, watching him pour a glass of water and try to drink it with a hand that shook so hard he finally had to use both hands to lift the glass. She sat down at the kitchen table to wait. After a minute he sat down across from her. A decade of secrets trembled in the space between them.

"What cloak?" asked Lena. "You said she found her cloak."

Her dad looked at his hands. "I can't believe we're finally having this conversation.