Before Miya stood a six year old little girl identical to herself from that age. Round cheeks, red lips too big for her face, and dark irises that blended in with the pupils. Even the bob, cut out of straight black hair, was ripped straight out of the nineties.

Small feet shifted back and forth. Nervous or excited, Miya couldn’t tell. Really, she was having trouble on focusing on anything at all.

Today was Miya’s Transference day, and she was terrified.