Aubrey can't find the mirror.

She strains her eyes to search for the very object that can bring her back to that abandoned house, but it's nowhere in sight. If the mirror is the one that pulled her into this place, it has to be her way out too. But where is it?

"I can't find it anywhere," says Aubrey in frustration as she stands back in front of her mom's room. She plops down on the filthy floor, her back leaning on the door. A soft clanking of Claire's iron chains gives her the assurance that her mother is still there, listening to her.

"Is it the black mirror with a golden frame?"

"Yes." Aubrey cocks her head to the side. "How do you know? Have you seen it before?"

It takes several seconds before she hears her mother reply. "Yes. But it shouldn't be... Wait, it's the one in the wooden jewelry box, right?"

Lorraine's weird question about the box that morning flashes in Aubrey's head. Her mom and Lorraine definitely refer to the same box and the same mirror. "No, or at least not anymore. The jewelry box sits in my room. I found it in the attic, among your stuff. But the mirror was lying in the toilet of an empty house down the woods."

"Huh? How did you find that place?" Alarm wraps Claire's voice.

"People from school hang out there, Mom. And I know that you and Lorraine are talking about the same box and mirror. So, what's the deal about it?"

Another clanking sound cuts the thick silence in the dark hallways.

"The house is where the story about the box started. It was also where people hung out and chilled back then. In the beginning, it was just to smoke and try alcohol, some brought drugs. But then a friend of mine introduced us to his friend. It's where things got dangerous."

"Dangerous how?"

"He could see things we couldn't and he could even tell us what's going to happen in the near future. Everyone was in awe, of course. But looking back at it, I should've seen the sign, I should've run away at that point. We began to explore the Ouija board, calling spirits with rituals, reading tarot cards, and so on. It was when a spirit led me to the jewelry box in the basement. It had a mirror attached to the inner side of the lid, and it talked to me."

"It talked to you?" Aubrey turns to the side and presses her ear on the door surface. "What did it talk about?"

"My pain." Claire pauses, giving Aubrey another wave of anxiety. "That time, I was involved with my school teacher, your father. He was unhappily married to the pastor's daughter, but of course, he did not dare to leave her. So, we were having an affair. I was so head over heels. One day, I heard that his wife got pregnant with their first child. It hit me hard because it meant that all the things he said about his marriage were big fat lies. After lots of fights, he wanted to stop seeing me, for his wife and the baby. Little did we know, I was also pregnant."

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Aubrey takes a sharp breath. "It was me, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"What happened after that? Did you tell the situation to the pastor?"

"No," Claire says, almost whispering. "No one would believe it was his. Not until you were born so that I could run the test. I was only seventeen, Obby. The idea of going through the pregnancy alone without any support was too scary. Lori did push me to talk about this to Pastor Marlon, but the mirror gave a better offer."

"What did you say?" Aubrey almost chokes on her saliva. "Pastor Marlon was the pastor that day? Does it mean my father was married to... Sandra?"

"Yes."

Aubrey's mind runs a mile in an hour, trying to make sense of everything. "Does it mean, Sandra's son is my half... brother?"

"Yes, Obby. Bob is your brother. Didn't they tell you this already?"

Aubrey shakes her head even though she knows her mother can't see her. "Lorraine rarely mentions you as if your name is a taboo word in the house and I hate her for that."

"It must still be too painful for her. Lorraine tried everything to fix all the mistakes I made. Literally everything. Never did she leave my side, even when everyone started to treat me like the garbage of the congregation. The failure."

"If she loved you that much, why did she treat you like you never existed?"

All the scenes from her earlier years rush to Aubrey's mind. How cold Lorraine was handling her while she needed motherly affection. How Lorraine always abruptly changed subjects when Aubrey started to ask about her mom. Lorraine had no idea how much it hurt her. She needed to connect to something, or someone, to remind her that she was loved once, that she mattered, but Lorraine burned all the bridges and all the memories. What Lorraine did was leave her on a hard cold floor, alone and unprotected.

"She was also hurting as much as you were, Obby, and I believe she still is," says Claire as if she can read her daughter's mind. "She must be livng in guilt now. She didn't believe me when I said something was off and that I'd been followed by something sinister. I know she just wanted me to stop being paranoid. And the fact that I lived safe and sound, under Pastor Marlon's care, gave her enough reason to start doubting me. But then I was killed right under her nose."

Aubrey closes her eyes, feeling the soft jab in her heart. She never knew this. Lorraine never told her all this painful story about the past. Is this the reason she can't handle having her mother's picture in the house? Because it will always remind her of her failure. The ultimate pain.

"But I don't understand. Why did she take me in? How can she bear looking at me every single day if this is too much for her?"

"I guess... she loves you more than the pain itself. She's loved you since the day you were born. She also took care of you during your first years while I had to work and make a living. You were also so fond of her, you know. You don't remember any of this, do you?"

"No. I guess your death changed all the memories I had about my earlier years." When her mom doesn't respond, she continues, "Mom, do you think Lorraine still loves me?"

"Yes. I did ask Pastor Marlon to send you to the orphanage I grew up in if something happened to me. Because I knew something was going to happen. So, Lori didn't have to take you in. Yet she did. And she's been taking good care of you, hasn't she?"

Aubrey pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them. "And I'm blaming her for all these years, for the love I thought I never had. I've become so bitter and ungrateful toward her." Aubrey buries her face in her knees. "Oh, God. What did I do? What should I do?"

"Find your way back to her while you still can. Because you don't belong here. You belong with her."

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