The door stood open.

Lena couldn’t move.

Neither could Nora.

The woman standing in the hallway looked exactly like Lena.

Same face.

Same dark hair.

Same scar beneath her eyebrow.

Same voice.

But her smile was wrong.

Too wide.

Too calm.

Too familiar.

She stepped into the apartment.

“Did you miss me?”

Nora grabbed Lena’s hand.

“Don’t look at her.”

The other Lena laughed.

“Why not?”

She tilted her head.

“I’m just her.”

“No,” Nora whispered.

“You’re not.”

The creature smiled.

“You’ve been trapped for ten years, little sister.”

Her eyes moved toward Nora.

“You should know better than anyone.”

Nora’s face went pale.

Lena looked at her.

“What does she mean?”

Nora didn’t answer.

The creature walked closer.

“You don’t remember everything, Lena.”

Lena’s heart sank.

“What don’t I remember?”

Nora finally spoke.

“The night we disappeared…”

She looked at the creature.

“…I wasn’t the only one who was taken.”

The creature smiled.

“She was taken too.”

Lena stared.

“Who?”

Nora pointed at the other Lena.

“The thing in front of us.”

---

The creature suddenly moved.

It crossed the room in a blur.

Lena pushed Nora aside.

The creature’s hand struck the wall where Lena’s head had been.

The wall cracked.

Nora screamed.

“Run!”

They rushed toward the kitchen.

The creature followed.

Not walking.

Gliding.

Its feet barely touched the floor.

“Lena…”

Its voice became sweet.

“You can’t run from yourself.”

Lena grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter.

The creature stopped.

It looked at the knife.

Then laughed.

“You think that can hurt me?”

Lena tightened her grip.

“No.”

She pointed toward the window.

“But falling might.”

She grabbed Nora.

They ran.

The creature lunged.

Lena smashed the window.

Cold night air rushed into the room.

Below them was the street.

Seven floors down.

Nora stared at her.

“You’re not seriously thinking—”

“Trust me.”

They climbed onto the fire escape.

The creature screamed behind them.

“LENA!”

They ran down the metal stairs.

Behind them came the sound of breaking glass.

Then footsteps.

Fast.

Too fast.

Nora looked back.

“It’s coming!”

“I know!”

They reached the ground.

Lena grabbed Nora’s hand.

“Where do we go?”

Nora looked toward the forest.

“The old house.”

“Our house?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where it began.”

---

They reached the abandoned family house just before dawn.

The building looked smaller than Lena remembered.

The front door was hanging open.

Nora stopped.

“We shouldn’t go inside.”

“We have to.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to end this.”

They entered.

Dust covered everything.

The old hallway was exactly as it had been ten years ago.

Lena’s childhood bedroom.

The living room.

The staircase.

And at the end of the hall—

the room where the mirror had once stood.

The walls were covered with hundreds of photographs.

Lena stepped closer.

Photographs of herself.

As a child.

As a teenager.

As an adult.

But there were hundreds.

Every photograph showed a different version of her.

Some were smiling.

Some were crying.

Some had black eyes.

Some had faces scratched out.

Nora whispered,

“The mirror doesn’t just copy people.”

Lena looked at her.

“What does it do?”

“It keeps them.”

She pointed toward the photographs.

“Every person it takes becomes a reflection.”

Lena stared.

“How many?”

Nora shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

A photograph fell from the wall.

Lena picked it up.

It showed their mother.

She was standing beside the mirror.

Beside her stood another woman.

Lena’s mother had written something beneath the photograph.

I made a deal.

Lena’s blood ran cold.

“What deal?”

Nora took the photograph.

“She wanted to bring our father back.”

Lena stared at her.

“Our father?”

“He died before you were born.”

“I know.”

“She couldn’t accept it.”

Nora’s voice trembled.

“So she found the mirror.”

Lena understood.

Their mother had wanted another chance.

Another life.

Another person returned.

But the mirror always demanded something in exchange.

Nora pointed toward another photograph.

Their mother.

Then Lena.

Then Nora.

“She gave it us.”

Lena’s eyes filled with tears.

“She sacrificed her children?”

“She thought she could control it.”

Nora looked toward the empty doorway.

“She was wrong.”

---

A sound came from upstairs.

Footstep.

Both sisters froze.

Another.

Footstep.

Lena whispered,

“She’s here.”

Nora nodded.

They moved toward the basement.

The door creaked open.

Inside was darkness.

They found an old lantern.

Nora lit it.

At the bottom of the stairs stood a large wooden box.

Lena opened it.

Inside was the original mirror frame.

Broken.

But beneath it was an old diary.

Their mother’s final diary.

Lena opened it.

The final entry was dated ten years ago.

The mirror cannot be destroyed.

It can only be closed.

The person who was copied must willingly give up the life they stole.

But there is a terrible price.

The original must choose to forgive them.

Lena stopped reading.

Nora looked at her.

“What does it mean?”

Lena whispered,

“I have to give up my life.”

Nora shook her head.

“No.”

“If I’m the copy—”

“No.”

“Nora…”

“You’re my sister.”

“But I’m not the real Lena.”

Nora stepped closer.

“I don’t care.”

Tears rolled down her face.

“You became my sister.”

Lena stared at her.

Nora continued.

“You remember our childhood.”

“You remember Dad.”

“You remember Mom.”

“You remember me.”

Her voice broke.

“You loved me.”

Lena began crying.

“That’s enough.”

Suddenly—

the lantern went out.

Darkness swallowed the basement.

A voice whispered from behind them.

“Beautiful.”

The creature stepped from the shadows.

“Such a touching reunion.”

Lena turned.

The creature smiled.

“But one of you still has to disappear.”

Nora stepped in front of Lena.

“Take me.”

The creature laughed.

“You already gave yourself once.”

It moved closer.

“Now I want her.”

Lena looked at Nora.

Then at the creature.

She understood.

The mirror didn’t want her dead.

It wanted her afraid.

It wanted her to believe she didn’t deserve to exist.

She stepped forward.

“I forgive myself.”

The creature stopped.

“What?”

“I forgive the girl who survived.”

The walls began shaking.

“I forgive the girl who forgot.”

The creature screamed.

“No!”

Lena continued.

“I forgive the girl who wasn’t strong enough to save Nora.”

The creature’s face began cracking.

“You don’t get to decide!”

Lena looked directly into its black eyes.

“Yes.”

She smiled through her tears.

“I do.”

The entire basement exploded with light.

The creature screamed.

Its body shattered into thousands of fragments.

Every fragment became a reflection.

Then—

silence.

The mirror frame collapsed.

The last piece of glass fell to the floor.

And inside it, Lena saw one final image.

Her mother.

She was crying.

She whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

Then disappeared.

The glass turned to dust.

Nora grabbed Lena.

They held each other.

For the first time in ten years—

there was no whispering.

No footsteps.

No reflection moving by itself.

No voice calling their names.

Only silence.

Real silence.

Lena closed her eyes.

“It’s over.”

Nora nodded.

“Yes.”

But neither of them noticed the tiny piece of glass beneath the wooden box.

A piece no larger than a fingernail.

Inside it—

a pair of black eyes slowly opened.

And a voice whispered:

“Not yet.”

To Be Continued…