Lucy Hale stood before the hallway mirror, squinting at her reflection. She had seen something wrong—something out of place—but now it looked normal. Yet, a chill crept over her skin. It wasn’t the first time she had noticed it. First, it was small things: a delayed blink, a turn of the head a second too late. But lately, it had become more... unsettling.

She glanced down at her hand, flexing her fingers. Her reflection mimicked her perfectly. She exhaled in relief.

Then, as she turned to leave, the reflection didn’t. It stood there, watching her go.

Lucy froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turned back to the mirror. Her reflection remained motionless, staring straight at her with an eerie calmness. The Lucy in the mirror wasn’t her—not anymore.

“What... what are you doing?” she whispered, stepping closer.

The reflection smiled—a slow, deliberate grin that sent a shock of fear down her spine.

Lucy stumbled backward, her hand reaching for the wall to steady herself. She wasn’t losing her mind, was she? This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

“Jack!” she called, her voice trembling.

Her husband appeared at the end of the hall, wiping his hands with a towel. “What is it now, Lucy?”

She pointed shakily at the mirror. “It’s... it’s not right. My reflection... it moved—on its own.”

Jack sighed, his expression softening into one of tired patience. He had heard this too many times in the past few weeks. “Lucy, we’ve talked about this. It’s just stress. You’ve been overworking yourself.”

“No, no, Jack, I swear. Look at it! Just look!”

Reluctantly, Jack stepped in front of the mirror beside her. He ran a hand through his hair and looked into the glass. “I see... us. Everything looks fine.”

Lucy’s heart pounded. Her reflection had returned to normal. She glanced nervously at Jack, then back at the mirror. Her reflection mirrored her movements perfectly now, but the smile... the smile still lingered in the back of her mind.

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“I know what I saw,” she muttered.

Jack rubbed her shoulder, his voice soft but distant. “Maybe you need some rest. I can cover your shifts at the shop tomorrow.”

Lucy didn’t respond, her eyes still locked on the glass as Jack walked away. She didn’t need rest—she needed answers.

---

That night, Lucy couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the reflection standing there, watching her with that smile. It wasn’t just a trick of the light or her mind playing games. Something was wrong with the mirrors in the house.

She sat up in bed, the soft glow of the moon casting shadows across the room. Her gaze fell on the full-length mirror across from their bed. She hadn’t noticed it during the day, but now... now it seemed to pulse with a dark energy, almost like it was alive.

Lucy slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Jack, and crept toward the mirror. Her heart raced, but she had to see. She had to know.

Her reflection was there, standing tall in the dim light. For a moment, everything seemed normal again—until the figure behind her appeared.

A tall, shadowy silhouette loomed behind her reflection, its form murky and indistinct. Lucy’s blood ran cold. She spun around, expecting to see someone standing there in the room. But there was nothing.

She turned back to the mirror. The figure hadn’t moved—it still stood behind her reflection, waiting.

“No,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “This isn’t real.”

But the figure stepped closer in the mirror, slowly, deliberately. And then... her reflection turned around to face it. Lucy screamed, stumbling back as her reflection moved without her. The figure in the mirror reached out to her reflection, its hand pressing against the glass as though it wanted to break through.

“Lucy?!” Jack’s voice startled her as he rushed into the room. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her away from the mirror.

“The mirror—it’s in the mirror!” Lucy cried, pointing frantically. But when Jack looked, the shadowy figure and the moving reflection were gone. The glass only showed her wide-eyed face, pale and trembling.

“I’m calling a doctor,” Jack muttered, worry etched on his face.

“No! You don’t understand!” Lucy tried to push him away, but her strength was drained. “There’s something in the mirrors, Jack. It’s trying to get me.”

Jack shook his head, gently leading her back to bed. “It’s just your imagination, Lucy. You’re not sleeping enough.”

Lucy fell silent, her mind swirling with fear and confusion. But she knew what she had seen. She wasn’t losing her mind. Something was there—something watching her.

---

Over the next few days, Lucy avoided the mirrors. She covered them, turned them away, anything to escape the growing sense of dread that now filled the house. Jack tried to comfort her, but there was a distance between them now. He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. He hadn’t seen what she had seen.

But the mirrors were relentless.

Late one night, as Lucy sat alone in the darkened living room, she heard it—a faint whisper, soft but insistent. It was coming from the hallway mirror.

She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help it. Slowly, she approached the mirror, her breath shallow, her hands trembling.

The reflection smiled back at her.

“We’re waiting,” it whispered.

And this time, Lucy knew she couldn’t turn away.