{ Mia }
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Then again.
Not rushed. Not frantic. Just… polite. Like someone who had all the time in the world.
I looked up from the half-built circuit board on my desk. Lex was sprawled out on the floor across from me, flipping through one of my old notebooks. Ace was asleep in the corner, using my beanbag as if it had personally offended him.
"Did you order something?" I asked Lex.
He didn't even glance up. "Nope."
I pushed myself to my feet, brushing metal shavings off my hands. Scarlett's light blinked softly on my wall, but she didn't say anything, so I figured it wasn't a threat. Probably just the mail guy or a nosy neighbor. Maybe Mom's weird yoga friend coming by uninvited again.
I crept toward the stairs anyway — quietly. Just in case.
The doorbell rang again.
"Okay, okay," I muttered, tying my hoodie tighter around my waist.
I reached the bottom step, peeking around the corner.
The front door stood still.
Sunlight poured through the frosted glass, casting soft gold across the floorboards. Nothing unusual. Nothing strange.
Just a visitor.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, straightened up, and opened the door.
"Hi, can I help you?"
The man standing on the porch smiled.
And somewhere — deep in my chest — something I couldn't name went quiet.
" So can i help you?" I repeated.
" You don't remember me...do you? " He asked under his breath.
" What?" I whispered as if I hadn't heard him.
He just shook his head. " N-nothing. I-I'm here to see your mom. Is she here?"
I paused - technically, yeah. She was right in the kitchen. But something about him made my skin crawl.
"Who are you exactly?"
Suddenly his whole body tensed, his palms strated shaking and he stepped back a little before hesitantly replying.
" I...I'm a f-friend of hers. I just need to talk to her."
I narrowed my eyes." Well, she's not home call her or I can take a message if you'd like..."
His gaze hardened for a second and it felt like he was about to pounce but suddenly his phone rang.
His eyes lingered just a second too long and he turned around.
" One second let me take this..." He whispered.
"You can go now." I waved him off, trying to sound casual - but my hand was shaking.
"Bye. See you... never."
I shut the door tight and sprinted to my room.
" Who was at the door honey?" My mon shouted from the kitchen.
I froze.Crap. I forgot she was in the kitchen. She must've heard the whole thing. " J-just some guy offering some buy one get one free coupons or something..."
" That's a weird thing to offer..."
I laughed." I-I know right! I was like what kind of scam are you running. Anyways mom I got to go do my homework..."
" Okay, bye sweetie..."
I made it to my room and shut the door. Tight.
Lex looked at me puzzled. " What happened?"
I waved him off and sat at my computer.
" Scarlett, access the front door camera."
" On it..."
In a moment my screen flashed. I could see the man, still on his phone.
" Scarlett access voice."
~~~~~
" Yes I'm here."
...
" The little twerp won't let me in."
...
" I think she feels something is off."
...
" Alright I'll come back tomorrow..."
~
I shook my head and started typing.
"Scarlett," I muttered, "can we get into his phone?"
Lex's head snapped up. "You want to what?"
"I just want to know who the hell that guy is."
Scarlett's light pulsed a soft blue.
"Attempting trace. Locking onto his signal from the security footage timestamp."
I minimized the camera feed and pulled up my custom trace tracker. The guy was still nearby — walking slow, still on the call, totally unaware I was ghosting his digital shadow.
"Phone model identified: TYRIS X9 Elite. Firewall: moderate. Encryption pattern... inconsistent."
"Can we break in?"
"Not easily. But if he's using Bluetooth or Wi-Fi within range…"
I spun toward the window, flung it open, and leaned just enough to catch the tip of his coat as he disappeared around the block. My heart thudded.
"Scarlett, start piggybacking any open signals in the last 60 seconds. Pull nearby devices and isolate his."
"Working… ping received. Weak Bluetooth handshake detected. Injecting backdoor access token."
Lines of code danced across the screen. Lex crept closer behind me, eyes locked on the scrolling data.
"Are you seriously hacking him from the doorbell footage?"
I smirked. "I'm seriously trying."
Ping.
My screen flickered. A clone of his interface shimmered into view — faint, like a half-loaded webpage.
"Yes!" I hissed. "Scarlett, stabilize."
"Cloning cache… decrypting files… device infiltration at 41%."
The screen sharpened. Text messages. Call logs. Location history.
One folder caught my eye.
/PROJECT FILES/
— Mirror / Initiated
— Images
— Audio Logs
— Asset Reports
My breath caught. Lex leaned in.
" You're good at this..."
I clicked.
Inside the "Images" subfolder — a burst of grainy photos loaded.
Some were surveillance images of me.
In school. In the backyard. From weeks ago.
Others... were older. A hospital room. A crying baby wrapped in a gray blanket. A blurry shot of a man standing next to a monitor. The filename read:
"MIRROR_SUBJECT_02_RECOVERY_ATTEMPT_3.JPG"
I stared at it, throat dry.
Scarlett's voice broke the silence.
"He's disconnecting. Remote shutdown initiated on target device."
"No—no no no—save what you can—"
"Files copied: 17. Trace route disabled. Clone terminated."
Gone.
Just like that.
I sat back in my chair, pulse racing, jaw clenched.
Lex looked at me. "Mia… what is Mirror?"
I didn't answer.
Because the better question was:
Why was I in it?
I sat frozen, my fingers hovering just above the keys.
Mirror Subject 02.
Recovery attempt.
Three.
I didn't know what that meant — not really. But I felt what it meant.
It meant I wasn't just some random kid who showed up on a doorstep.
It meant someone had been watching me for years.
And that man… the one at the door… he wasn't just some creep. He was connected to this. Deeply.
"Scarlett," I whispered, "bring up the files we salvaged. Start with the reports."
Lex crouched beside me now, no longer pretending this wasn't serious. His expression was unreadable — part concern, part something sharper.
The screen filled with fragmented documents — most of them corrupted or redacted. Black bars ran across entire paragraphs. Names were replaced with IDs. But one line stood out:
Subject 02 displayed early anomalous behavior. Phase-lock failed. Relocated via unauthorized jump. Cloaking signature remains undetectable to standard scan tech. Asset believed compromised.
"Unauthorized jump…" Lex muttered. "Wait. You think…?"
I met his eyes.
"Ace," we said at the same time.
It made sense. He teleported me here, didn't he? To safety. That's how I ended up on that doorstep crying. Alone. No memory of what came right before.
"Scarlett," I said again, more urgently. "Open the audio logs."
"Only one file partially intact. Label: 'Sweetheart_Record_7'."
My throat closed.
"Play it."
A burst of static.
Then — a voice. Smooth. Calm. A little too calm.
"…She's more stable than Subject 01. Less aggressive. Quiet, even when resisting."
"What about the memories?" another voice asked. Male. Older. Gruffer.
"Scrambled in the jump. We'll wait and monitor. When she surfaces… we'll take her back."
Silence.
Then the first voice again, barely above a whisper:
"My little sweetheart. You can't hide forever."
Click.
The file ended.
I stared at the screen, every muscle in my body locked tight.
Lex stood up slowly, as if afraid any sudden movement would shatter the room.
"Mia… what the hell were they trying to do to you?"
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't know.
But suddenly, a childhood memory slammed into me — out of nowhere.
That song I used to hum in my sleep. The one I never remembered learning. The rhythm that always made the lights flicker.
The same tune I heard in the audio file.
"My little sweetheart…"
I shoved back from the desk.
"Scarlett," I said hoarsely, "scramble the front camera. Double-encrypt the firewall. If he comes back…"
"He won't get through," she confirmed.
But I still looked at the door.
Because I knew, deep in my bones, he would come back.
He wasn't finished.
And neither was I.
{ Author }
That night, as Mia lay in bed, the familiar humming returned. But this time, it felt different—like a thread weaving through the air, wrapping around her mind.
Unknown to her, far away, the man's device pulsed softly, sending out a frequency only she could hear—a secret signal tuned to her unique powers.
The lullaby was no accident. It was a tether.
A call.
A reminder.
And somewhere deep inside, Mia hummed along, unaware of the chains tightening around her.