Rain clung to the city like a second skin, misting windows and turning the skyline into a watercolor blur. Mira stood on the rooftop of her building, umbrella forgotten, the wind tugging at her clothes. The rooftops had always been her place of clarity. High above the noise. Alone, but not isolated. And yet tonight, even the air felt wrong.
She wasn't sure what had drawn her up here—just an instinct. A compulsion. The kind she had learned to listen to since the voice returned.
She clutched the wrapped hand mirror Lena had given her, hidden in the folds of her coat. She hadn't dared open it since the reflection winked at her. Now, under the dark sky, it felt like a key she didn't know how to use.
Thunder cracked in the distance. A soft vibration in her bones.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "What do you want from me?"
A second passed.
Then a voice behind her: "To remember."
Mira spun around, heart stalling.
No one.
Just air and rain.
But the voice—her voice—had been real. Again.
She backed toward the stairwell, heartbeat crashing like waves.
But then something shimmered in the puddle at her feet.
She looked down.
Her reflection smiled.
But not a kind smile. A knowing one.
The puddle rippled—and the reflection remained still.
It didn't mimic.
It watched.
---
Back in her apartment, she peeled off her wet coat and dropped it to the floor. Her hair clung to her neck, her hands icy. The mirror, still wrapped, now sat on her table like a silent threat.
She reached for it, unwrapped it slowly. The glass gleamed in the dim light.
She lifted it.
Her reflection blinked.
So did she.
The same.
Then, faintly, like a whisper through fabric, came the voice.
"Come to me."
The mirror shimmered.
Mira flinched, almost dropped it. But the pull was strong. She couldn't look away.
The apartment around her faded. The mirror grew brighter.
Until all she could see… was her other self.
---
When she woke, the mirror was back on the table.
She was on the couch, sweating, heart pounding. Her fingers were raw, scratched like she'd clawed at something.
But she had no memory.
Her phone buzzed.
A text.
Lena: Call me. Now.
Mira scrambled for the phone. Dialed. Lena picked up immediately.
"Mira. There was an incident."
Mira's voice cracked. "What happened?"
"I was on the rooftop of my building. I thought I saw you."
Mira's blood chilled.
"I waved at you," Lena continued, "but you didn't wave back. You just stared."
"Lena, I wasn't there."
Silence.
Then: "Then who the hell was I looking at?"
---
They met at Lena's apartment. Mira brought the mirror.
Lena didn't ask to touch it.
Instead, she showed Mira a photo on her phone. Blurry. Taken from across rooftops. But Mira saw it clearly.
It was her.
Standing on the ledge. Looking at Lena. Smiling.
Same hoodie. Same hair. But her eyes—too dark. Too empty.
"I didn't feel afraid," Lena said. "Not at first. I felt drawn."
"That's what she does," Mira said. "She wants us close."
"To pull us in?"
"Or to show us something."
Lena turned to her, whispering, "What if this isn't about danger? What if it's about memory?"
---
They sat side by side, journaling. Dr. Rhodes had suggested it—keeping records of their thoughts before and after each incident.
Mira's pen trembled. She wrote:
"I remember a red dress. I was small. I was holding a glass animal. It shattered. I cut my hand. But someone else screamed."
She underlined the last sentence.
Someone else.
Not her.
The memory wasn't hers.
Or not entirely.
---
At midnight, Mira couldn't sleep.
She sat by the window, staring at the street below. Her reflection hovered faintly in the glass.
She looked over.
The mirror on the table faced her. Its surface shimmered faintly.
Then it changed.
She saw her own living room.
Only… she wasn't in it.
Someone else was.
Wearing her face.
Sitting in her chair.
Smiling at the camera.
Mira fell backward, scrambling.
The mirror darkened.
She crawled forward, heart jackhammering.
Nothing. Just her own face again.
But the smile lingered. Not on her lips.
On the glass.
---
She ran to Lena's.
Didn't text. Didn't knock. Lena opened the door before she could.
"You saw her, didn't you?" Lena whispered.
Mira nodded. "She's here. She's not just watching. She's… stepping through."
Lena pulled her inside. "Then we need to trap her."
Mira blinked. "Trap her?"
"She's using your mind. Your mirrors. Your memories. But if she's crossing into this world, we can pull her the rest of the way. Cut the link."
Mira hesitated. "And if we fail?"
"Then she takes your place. Permanently."
---
They prepared.
They placed the hand mirror in a circle of salt. Lena brought candles, incense, water from a church basin.
"You really believe in this?" Mira asked.
"I believe in you."
The candles flickered as they sat cross-legged.
Mira held the mirror. Closed her eyes.
She whispered, "Come to me."
Nothing.
Then… a pulse.
A low, vibrating hum from the glass. It grew louder. The mirror heated in her hands.
She opened her eyes.
She was back in the mirror realm.
Shadows twisted.
Her other self stood before her.
"You left me," the reflection hissed.
"I didn't know," Mira whispered.
"You buried me. With your silence. With your fear."
The reflection raised a hand.
Mira flinched. But didn't retreat.
"I'm not afraid anymore."
"You should be. Because now… I remember everything."
---
In the waking world, Lena saw Mira's body slump. Eyes wide open. Not blinking.
"Mira?"
No answer.
Then the mirror on the table cracked.
Lena stepped forward, shaking. "Come back."
The flame of the candle nearest Mira flared bright.
And Mira gasped.
She blinked rapidly.
"She remembers," Mira whispered. "And now… so do I."
---
End of Chapter 6