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The door was already open when Sera arrived at the archive. She stopped in the corridor, one hand...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which was wrong. Elena had specified Mondays. She'd been very...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which was strange, because Mara had been dead for six...
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, which Nora had always considered an unlucky day. She'd been...
The envelope had no return address. Just her name — Sera Voss — written in handwriting she...
The mirror cracked the moment Sarah touched it.
Not a spider web of fractures, but a single, perfect line down the center—as if the glass had been waiting for her fingers. Through the split, she glimpsed something impossible: her reflection moving independently, mouthing words she wasn't speaking.
"Finally," her other self whispered, pressing pale hands against the fractured surface. "I've been trapped here for so long."
Sarah stumbled backward, heart hammering. The antique shop suddenly felt smaller, dustier, filled with shadows that hadn't been there moments before. Mrs. Chen was nowhere to be seen—had she ever been real?
"Don't run," her reflection pleaded, tears streaming down identical cheeks. "You're the first person who could see me, who could touch the barrier. I need your help."
"This isn't real," Sarah breathed, but even as she spoke, she noticed the reflection's clothes were different—older, like something from decades past. And there was something desperate in those familiar eyes.
"The others are coming," Mirror-Sarah whispered urgently. "They know you've made contact. We don't have much time."
The shop's lights flickered. In the growing darkness, Sarah saw more mirrors lining the walls—dozens of them, each containing shadows that moved with purpose.
And they were all turning toward her.
#fiction #mystery #serialfiction #supernatural
