The Reflection That Looked Away

The town discovered the problem when everyone’s reflections started blinking. Mirrors,

windows, phone screens—reflections smiled a second too late, moved a second too

slow. Authorities told people to cover every reflective surface.

At 3:00 a.m., Amir woke up to the sound of breathing that wasn’t his own.

He forgot the mirror. His reflection was facing away from him, shoulders shaking.

“Don’t look at me,” it whispered. “They can only cross if you make eye contact.”

Amir shut his eyes. The breathing moved closer. Something wet touched his cheek.

And his reflection laughed— from inside the room