o strike if anything came through. His other gripped the rusted fire poker they'd found beside the cold fireplace. Anna's heart pounded in her ears. The silence on the other side of the door was wor

a second too late. Her lips were moving, but Anna wasn't speaking. Luke saw it too. "Back away, Anna." But she didn't. She couldn't. The mirror's pull was magnetic, like gravity reversed. Her reflection leaned forward, lips moving again. Anna heard nothing at first-then, softly, like wind through a crack in a coffin: "I'm still inside." Anna's breath hitched. "Luke... it spoke." Her reflection moved on its own, hand pressing against the glass. Anna reached toward it instinctively. Luke grabbed her wrist. "Don't touch it!" But it was too late. The second her fingers brushed the surface, the mirror rippled like liquid. And then- The lights blew out. Anna was gone. Luke screamed her name, pounding on the glass-but her reflection was no longer hers. It stood still. Smiling. And behind it, Anna screamed. She was inside. Inside the mirror. She could see Luke, banging on the other side. Hear him. But everything was muffled, distant, like she was underwater. The room behind the glass wasn't the same. It was darker. Colder. Shadows crept along the edges, whispering in voices that sounded like her own, twisted into things they'd never say. She turned, backing away, until her shoulder hit something solid. A hand. Cold. Thin. Wrinkled. She spun around-and found herself face to face with a woman. No, not a woman. Her. Older. Decayed. Her face cracked like porcelain, stitched with veins of black blood. Eyes hollow. Mouth sewn shut. It was her. Or what she could become. The figure raised a hand and pointed. Behind Anna, another figu