"You need to go now, Justine," Sheila said firmly, trying to maintain her composure.
"Don't worry. Remember—I'm your lawyer," Justine whispered as he kissed her neck.
Sheila tried to push him away, but he didn't stop.
"God," she murmured, locking eyes with him.
Justine only smiled. "See? You can't resist me."
"Where is that man already?" he asked casually.
"He's at the hospital. He went to visit his child," Sheila replied quickly.
"Oh, the wind has changed direction, huh?" he teased.
"Let's finish this so you can leave," Sheila snapped, trying to regain control.
Justine pulled her in for another kiss—one that deepened quickly. Sheila found herself lost in the sensation.
"Damn," she whispered, biting her lip, overwhelmed by her own desire.
But then—she saw her.
A woman. Smiling.
Sheila jolted and shoved Justine away.
"What now?" he asked, irritated.
"There's someone here," she said, scanning the room nervously.
"It's just us," Justine replied, glancing around.
Sheila remained quiet. Justine, sensing her unease, got dressed silently.
"I'm sorry. We need to stop. Martin might be on his way home," she murmured, slipping back into her clothes.
Justine sighed but said nothing.
"If you need a lawyer… or happiness, you know where to find me." He gave her one last lingering kiss. "I'll miss you. But we have to endure for now."
Sheila walked him to the garage. The night had grown darker. But the woman's face—that strange woman—lingered in her thoughts.
Alone again, Sheila waited in the dim silence of her house. Justine was gone, the housekeeper asleep. She returned to her bedroom, intending to wait for Martin.
She drifted off until a faint rustling woke her.
Martin?
She got up and looked around, but the hallway was empty. Maybe he was downstairs.
She walked into the living room, lit only by a dim lampshade and the faint light outside. No one was there.
She checked the bar area—still nothing.
Where could he be?
Suddenly, she sensed movement behind her. She spun around, but again—nothing.
A chill swept through the room. The windows were closed. The door was locked.
Still, the air grew colder.
Her skin prickled with fear.
She turned to go back upstairs when she heard it.
"Sheila…"
A whisper.
She froze.
"Sheila…"
The voice came again.
She turned toward the mirror hanging on the hallway wall—and saw it.
A shadow. Sitting on the couch.
Sheila's breath caught. Her heart raced. The woman was there. Dressed in mourning. Holding a broken mirror.
Sheila stumbled back. Sweat soaked her skin as the air grew heavier.
"Do you want to play?" the woman asked, her smile twisted with pain.
Sheila's voice was barely a whisper. "S-stay away from me! W-who are you? What do you want?"
"I'm going to count," the woman said, stepping closer. "You hide."
"No!" Sheila screamed.
The woman turned toward the moonlit window, blood dripping from her face. She sang in a soft, haunting voice:
"Hide and seek, the moon is bright… When I find you, there's punishment tonight."
Sheila ran. Stumbled. Fought to move.
She hid in her closet, shaking, hands over her mouth.
"One… two…" the voice called out, drifting on the wind.
"Three… four… five…"
Her heart pounded.
"Six… seven… eight…"
She clutched the closet walls.
"Nine… ten…"
Silence.
Then—the doorknob turned.
"Sheila… where are you?" the voice called.
Calm down, Sheila, calm down, she repeated to herself.
But then—the woman turned toward the closet. She was smiling.
Sheila's eyes widened.
The woman opened the door.
Sheila shut her eyes tight.
Silence.
Then—
"Surprise!"
She screamed.
Burst out of the closet.
"Because I found you," the woman whispered, "this is your punishment."
Sheila stumbled back onto the bed.
"Enjoy your punishment, my dear."
The ghost raised the broken mirror and began stabbing her.
Sheila screamed. Cried. Tried to shield herself from the pain.
"Sheila! Sheila!"
A voice—real this time.
She opened her eyes.
She was holding a broken mirror.
Martin was there, staring at her in shock. "What are you doing?! You're hurting yourself!"
"She was here," Sheila sobbed. "A woman came in—she had a broken mirror!"
"No one came in," Martin said, panicked. "The housemaids said you were screaming. They found you hurting yourself."
Sheila's mind spiraled. Everything blurred. She felt herself collapse into Martin's arms.
As she faded into unconsciousness, she saw the woman again.
Smiling.
Then—she vanished.