Chapter 2,Mirrors

The next morning, Mara woke to the smell of something sweet.She found Lila in the kitchen, standing on a stool in front of the stove. The girl was wearing one of Mara’s old aprons — far too big for her — and carefully stirring a pot of oatmeal. The fairy lights were still on from the night before, casting everything in soft pink.“You didn’t have to do that,” Mara said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.“I wanted to,” Lila replied without turning around. Her voice was calm. Almost too calm. “You were nice to me.”Mara leaned against the doorway, watching. There was something oddly graceful about the way the little girl moved. Precise. Like she had done this a hundred times before.They ate breakfast together at the small table. Lila ate slowly, chewing each bite the same number of times. Her eyes kept drifting to Mara’s face, studying her the way an artist studies a subject.“You have a pretty nose,” Lila said suddenly.Mara laughed, a little uncomfortable. “Thank you?”Lila didn’t laugh. She just smiled and went back to eating.After breakfast, Mara called her boss to say she’d be working from home for a few days. Then she sat Lila down on the couch with a notebook and some colored pencils.“I need to ask you some questions, okay? So I can help you find your family.”Lila nodded, but her eyes had that same distant look.“Do you remember where you lived before?”“No.”“Do you have parents?”A pause. “Not anymore.”Mara’s stomach twisted. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from Lila’s face. The girl leaned into the touch like a cat.That afternoon, Mara took Lila shopping for clothes. The girl refused anything but pink. Pink dresses, pink shirts, pink sneakers. When Mara suggested something else, Lila simply stared at her until she gave in.In the dressing room, Mara waited outside the curtain. She heard the soft rustle of fabric, then silence.“Lila? You okay in there?”No answer.Mara pulled the curtain back slightly.Lila stood in front of the mirror in a frilly pink dress, staring at her own reflection. She had pulled her hair back exactly the way Mara usually wore hers. For a second — just a second — it looked like a smaller, younger version of Mara standing there.Lila turned and smiled brightly.“Do I look like you?”Mara felt her skin prickle.That night, after Lila had finally gone to sleep on the couch, Mara stood in her bedroom and stared at her own reflection. She touched her face, suddenly self-conscious.From the living room came the faintest sound — the silver hairbrush moving through hair again.Slow.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.Steady.Loving.Mara closed her bedroom door and locked it for the first time in years.She didn’t sleep.And in the darkness, she could have sworn she heard a small voice whispering her own name.