The days following her unsettling encounter in the greenhouse passed in a blur of unease. Vivian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing beneath the surface—something she couldn’t see or fully understand. It was as if the house, the garden, and even the very earth had shifted subtly, leaving an air of tension that never quite lifted.

Sebastian noticed the change in her too, though he said little. He was still the steady presence he had been, his eyes filled with concern as he watched her, but he gave her space—more space than she wanted or needed. Perhaps he believed that time would heal whatever had been broken, and maybe, deep down, she did too.

But the whispers, the uneasy sense that something was waiting, gnawed at her.

It was late one evening when the feeling reached its peak. The sun had long since disappeared, leaving the world bathed in the muted glow of twilight. Vivian stood by the window in her room, staring out into the dark expanse of the yard. The wind whispered through the trees, the leaves rustling like faint voices in the distance.

A shiver ran down her spine. There it was again—the sense of being watched, of something lurking just beyond the edge of her vision. She turned quickly, half-expecting to find someone standing behind her, but there was nothing.

Her breath quickened.

It had been happening more and more recently. A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. A shadow in the hallway when she was sure she was alone. The mirror had been shattered, the roses burned away, yet it was as if some part of the curse had clung to her, refusing to let go.

She needed to see it for herself. She needed to confront it, whatever it was.

Vivian hurried down the hall, her footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent house. She reached the study and found Sebastian, hunched over a collection of old books, his brow furrowed in concentration. At the sound of her arrival, he looked up, his eyes widening with concern.

“Vivian?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “What is it?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she crossed the room and grabbed a small journal from the shelf—an old, leather-bound book she hadn’t seen before. It was covered in dust, and the edges of its pages were worn, but the handwriting inside was still legible.

“This,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “This is it. The answer.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “What is that? Where did you find it?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered, flipping through the pages rapidly. “It wasn’t here before. It must have… come with me.”

“Vivian,” Sebastian said softly, walking over to her. “You’re not making sense. What are you talking about?”

But she didn’t listen. Her fingers ran over the words as her mind raced. This journal—the words felt familiar, as though they were meant for her. Each page she turned seemed to unveil secrets she hadn’t known she was seeking.

And then she found it.

A passage that spoke of mirrors, of reflections that weren’t merely images but fragments of something older, something darker. The passage spoke of an entity that was bound to the mirrors of the world, lurking in the gaps between reality and reflection. It described how, once the bond was made, the entity would never truly leave, no matter how the physical object was destroyed.

Vivian’s pulse quickened. The words blurred before her eyes as her heart pounded in her chest.

The entity is not an object. It is a part of you. The reflection is not a thing, but a link between the real and the unreal. To sever the connection, you must destroy the link between your soul and the mirror’s dark power.

Her breath caught in her throat. She looked up at Sebastian, her eyes wide with realization. “It’s not over. The mirror wasn’t just a thing. It was a part of me.”

Sebastian’s expression shifted, a flicker of dread crossing his face. “What are you saying, Vivian?”

“I think it’s still inside me.” Her voice trembled. “I think it never left.”

The room seemed to grow colder as the silence stretched between them. Sebastian didn’t move, his eyes trained on her, as though waiting for her to explain. But Vivian didn’t know how to explain it. How could she make him understand that the darkness she had fought off had never truly gone? That it had burrowed deep into her, nestled inside her very being?

“It’s in my reflection,” she said softly, almost as if to herself. “In the mirror. It’s always been there. And now it’s inside me.”

Sebastian stepped forward, his hand reaching for hers, his grip firm but gentle. “Vivian, you’re not alone in this. I won’t let it take you.”

But as his hand brushed hers, Vivian felt a sudden jolt—like an electric current running through her body. It was fleeting, but unmistakable. She pulled her hand back, her breath hitching in her throat.

“That wasn’t you,” she said, her voice shaking. “That wasn’t you.”

Sebastian frowned, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”

But Vivian wasn’t listening. She was already backing away from him, her gaze flicking to the shadows in the corners of the room. The room felt wrong—oppressive, thick with an invisible force. The walls seemed to close in around her.

There it was again—the feeling of being watched. Of something more than just a shadow lurking in the periphery. Something cold, something alive.

“It’s not over,” she whispered to herself. “It’s still here.”

Without warning, the air in the room seemed to shift. The temperature dropped, the lights flickering as though the very atmosphere had been disturbed. Sebastian took a step back, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear.

“Vivian,” he said, his voice strained. “What’s happening?”

Vivian didn’t answer. Her eyes were locked on the mirror that hung on the far wall, its surface now rippling, distorting, as though it were alive. A shadowy figure began to form within it—an outline of a person, but the features were indistinct, shapeless.

And then, she heard it.

A whisper.

Vivian…

Her breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest as the whisper echoed around her, inside her, reverberating through her very soul. She stepped backward, her hand reaching for the door, but before she could touch the handle, the figure in the mirror seemed to come to life.

It stepped forward, emerging from the glass like a specter, its form shifting with every heartbeat.

You can never escape me, the voice whispered, now clear and sharp.

Vivian gasped, her back pressed against the door as the figure advanced. It reached out toward her, its shadowy hand stretching toward her face.

Sebastian moved toward her, but the figure raised its hand, and suddenly, he froze. His eyes went wide in terror as he looked at Vivian, unable to move, unable to speak.

The figure spoke again, its voice low and menacing. You’re mine now. All that remains is to claim you completely.

Vivian’s blood ran cold.

No, she thought desperately, her voice barely a whisper. I can’t let this happen again.

But the figure’s grip on reality was tightening, and it was becoming clear: The entity was not just a force or a curse. It was a part of her.

And it was taking her back.

To be continued...