The room felt wrong, somehow altered.
It wasn't just quiet.
It was watching, waiting.
She dropped the phone onto the bed as if it had burned her.
"No…" she whispered, shaking her head and stepping back. "No, this can't be real."
Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears.
Too desperate.
Toobreakable.
"It's just stress…just my mind playing tricks…"
But even as she spoke, the words rang hollow—unconvincing, even to herself.
Her eyes flicked back to the screen.
Dark now.
Still.
As if nothing had occurred.
As if she'd conjured it all from thin air.
A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"Of course…" she muttered. "I'm cracking up."
That was easier to stomach.
Easier than facing the truth.
She turned away, running her hands roughly through her hair, pacing as if she could outrun the thoughts clawing at her mind.
"I didn't leave anyone…" she insisted, her voice louder this time.
The words echoed faintly.
But echoes don't confirm; they merely repeat.
And repetition alone doesn't conjure truth.
Her gaze drifted back to the window.
The reflection lingered there again.
Still.
Quiet.
Unmoving.
Just as it had been before.
But this time—
it didn't feel like her own.
She froze, every muscle tense.
Slowly, cautiously, she edged closer.
The reflection mirrored her movement.
Exactly.
Perfectly.
And yet…
her chest tightened with a sense of unease.
It wasn't in the mirroring.
It was a feeling.
"Stop it…" she whispered to herself, fighting back the rising panic. "You're imagining things."
She reached out, her fingers hovering just short of touching the cold glass
The reflection did the same.
But for the briefest of moments—
it continued moving slightly past her own stopping point.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her hand recoiled instantly.
"No."
Her heart began to pound, a frantic drumbeat drowning out her thoughts.
"No, no, no…"
She stumbled backward, shaking her head with desperate force.
"I didn't do anything…"
The words tumbled out in a rush.
Forced.
As if she needed to convince herself more than anyone else.
"I didn't leave anyone there!"
Her voice cracked and broke.
The room remained silent and still.
But inside, she felt like everything was starting to break.
The memories threatened to resurface, pulling her back to that night.
But she shoved them back down.
Harder this time.
"No."
She covered her ears, as if to block out the noise of her own mind.
"I don't remember anything. That means nothing happened."
That's what she had to believe.
Because forgetting felt infinitely safer than remembering.
Because if she remembered—
she would be forced to face it.
And she wasn't ready.
Not yet.
The phone buzzed again.
Louder now.
Closer.
She didn't move a muscle.
Didn't turn to look.
Didn't even breathe.
Because deep down—
she already knew.
This was far from over.
It was only just beginning...