Every night, Clara checked the hallway mirror before bed—just a quick glance to calm her nerves. It had been there since she moved in, an ornate antique that came with the old Victorian house. But lately, something felt… off. One night, she noticed her reflection blinking out of sync with her. She backed away, heart pounding, only to watch her mirrored self smile and remain still. The next night, it waved. Panicked, Clara covered the mirror with a sheet, but that didn’t stop her from hearing soft footsteps pacing the hallway at night. Then came the whispering—her own voice, repeating things she never said aloud. On the seventh night, she woke to find the mirror uncovered, and her reflection standing outside the frame, watching her sleep.
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