A cloud of smoke drifted from seasoned Officer Mark Miller’s cigarette, blowing through the dusty air to smack into the face of his partner, Officer Dan Daivs. The bright and bushy-tailed new hire coughed once, a polite reminder to his coworker to stop smoking.

Officer Miller sniggered, releasing another breath in his partner’s face. “So, it’s up these stairs, huh?”

They trudged up the dark and decrepit stairs of an old, ragged apartment building. The stairs were polished where countless feet had tread, and the railing was dust free where people had skimmed their hands over. Spiders made their homes in the dark corners, where the dim lighting of the hallway couldn’t quite reach.

“Yes, sir. Her neighbor said she heard the shower stop shortly before 10 on Wednesday night. Our missing woman didn’t head into work the next morning, and no one has been able to contact her since.”

Officer Miller’s eyes narrowed, his years of experience weighing down on his shoulders. “Let’s hope there’s a body to call in this time. It doesn’t look good for our department to have so many missing person cases.”

Officer Davis looked affronted at the statement, and Officer Miller gave him a hefty pat on the shoulder. “It sounds bad, but trust me, kid.” Miler shook his head. “With cases like these, it’s better to have a body. Otherwise, the hope of their family returning will take over their lives. They won’t be able to move on,” he said with distant eyes.

They came to a stop outside of Room 101. “This it?”

Officer Davis took a brief look at the notepad clutched in his hand and nodded. “Looks like it.”

Officer Miller dropped the cigarette on the filthy floor, stomping it out with unnecessary force. His gut and years of experience told him that this wasn’t the standard missing person's case. He looked at his partner expectantly. “Well?”

Officer Davis dug through his pockets, pulling out a key the landlord had provided to them only minutes before. Miller stepped out of the way, allowing Davis to unlock the door, pushing it open. A gust of cool, airconditioned air blew out of the room, carrying dust with it. The two officers coughed. Miller rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the dust is much better for me than my cigarettes.”

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Officer Davis shot him another glare, pushing past Officer Miller into the room. “You don’t bring the dust home with you.”

Miller looked around the dusty apartment skeptically. “If you say so.”

Though the two joked around, the apartment was picked up, if a bit dusty. The carpeted floor showed signs of recent vacuuming, and the room was well-lit from windows along the opposing wall in the living room. A door to their right led into the kitchen, where the dishes were clean and put away in their proper place. The table was set, and only the cabinet toppers contained the layer of dust that seemed to cover most of the apartment building.

They methodically moved through the apartment, taking pictures of everything and making note of seemingly innocuous things, hum’ing and ha’ing as they went. In the kitchen, food was close to its expiration date, and the dishes were packed neatly away. The TV played in the living room stuck on an unsolved mysteries channel that made Officer Miller quirk his lips up in amusement. The single bathroom was likewise neatly organized, without a towel in sight. No clothes were in the washer or the dryer. The sheets were clean, and the bed was made in the bedroom. Drawers were cleanly shut, and in the closet, they found a safe. The key to the safe was stuffed into the missing woman’s underwear drawer, and they opened it to find her passport and a pile of cash.

Officer Miller slammed it shut with a shake of his head. “Well, she wasn’t a runaway.” His bones creaked as he stood, and the nimble limbs of Officer Davis were a source of envy.

Officer Davis pursed his lips, tapping his pen against the notepad as paced back and forth in the bedroom. “There’s no sign of forced entry, either. Did she leave?”

Officer Miller shook his head. “I doubt it, son.” he pointed to the wall adjoining the entry door in the bedroom, where a giant mirror hung above the dresser. Officer Davis followed his indication, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“Look,” Officer Miller said, moving his finger to the floor, “in front of the dresser.”

Discarded on the floor in front of the mirror was a single towel, the same color blue as the bathroom.

Officer Davis strode forward, reaching to pick up the towel with glove-covered hands. “That’s weird. Everything else is so…organized. Why would she leave this here?” He set his notepad to the side and pulled out an evidence bag, placing the towel into it and sealing it.

Officer Miller paced to the dresser and yanked the mirror off the wall, placing it so it faced against the wall as his partner watched on in confusion. “Sir?”

‘What did you say her name was, again?”

“Anna. Anna-”

Officer Miller raised up his hand, cutting his partner off. “First name’s all I needed. You know about the disappearances, I’m sure?”

“Talked about them all the time in the academy. Over 73 completely unrelated people have gone missing since the 60s. No one really knows why.”

“Right. Well, each of the missing persons had a palindrome for their name.”

“A palindrome? I thought that was just a rumor. But what does the mirror have to do with–”

Officer Miller was curt with his next reply, tiptoeing around the mirror. “All I know is that any time there’s something left behind, it’s in front of a mirror. Did they tell you to listen to your gut in that school of yours? Well, my gut tells me the palindrome and the mirrors are connected.”

“Is this a prank you play on the newbie? Do you get off on scaring me with innocent objects? I’m not going to fall for it–mirrors don’t eat people.”

Officer Miller shook his head. “You’ll learn.”