Elise found the antique mirror in the attic of her new home, its glass clouded but the frame exquisite. She polished it obsessively, revealing her reflection in sharper detail each day. Strangely, dust settled on everything else—never the mirror.
One night, she saw movement in the glass. Just a trick of the dim light, she told herself, but when she turned, her reflection did not. A tightness gripped her chest, but fascination outweighed fear.
A whisper in the warped wood beneath her feet, a breath of icy air on her neck—she hesitated. Something was wrong. And yet, her image in the mirror looked… perfected. Unblemished, radiant. More her than she was.
Elise reached out. The glass swallowed her fingers like warm water. A moment of panic—then euphoria. She belonged here.
The image in the real world grinned. Elise pounded on the glass, breath fogging from the other side. The reflection turned away. Elise screamed, unheard. Forever trapped.
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