he rooftop pulsed with tension. Madison stood with the shard gleaming in her hand, blood trickling over her knuckles, her eyes lit with an unnatural glow. The glass fragment hummed faintly, as though alive, its edges vibrating with invisible energy.
"Madison," Georgina whispered, half in disbelief, half in dread.
Ethan, still lying against the tar, groaned and muttered, "Please tell me she's just cosplaying as a murder fairy."
Madison tilted her head, her lips curling in a smile that was both familiar and foreign. "You don't understand. The mirror doesn't just show possibilities. It gives them. If you're brave enough to take the cut." She held up the shard like proof.
Georgina's mother stepped protectively in front of her. "That's not the mirror's gift. It's a curse."
"Funny," Madison said coldly, "that sounds exactly like what someone who already lost their chance would say."
The creature below shrieked, rattling the fire escape. It was restless, impatient, as if sensing the shard's power.
Ethan coughed, pushing himself up with visible effort. "Okay, this is getting very 'family reunion but make it demonic.' Can someone please decide if we're fighting or hugging this out?"
"Shut up, Ethan," Madison and Georgina snapped at the same time.
But then Georgina froze.
Her mother had said Ethan's name. Madison had said Ethan's name. But neither of them had met him.
Her chest tightened.
"How do you know his name?" Georgina whispered, her eyes darting between them.
The rooftop went still. Even the creature below seemed to pause, listening.
Madison blinked. "What?"
"You called him Ethan," Georgina said, voice rising. "But I never told you. Neither of you. How do you know him?"
Madison frowned. "Everyone knows Ethan."
Georgina's pulse spiked. "No. They don't. You didn't even look surprised when he showed up at the alley. You looked like you'd seen an old friend."
Her mother's face paled, the color draining from her cheeks. "Georgina… I need you to listen to me."
Ethan stiffened, confusion flickering across his face. "What's going on?"
Her mother's voice trembled. "Because Ethan isn't supposed to be here. Not anymore."
The rooftop air grew heavier, as if the night itself was holding its breath.
"What do you mean?" Georgina demanded.
Her mother's eyes met hers, raw with pain. "Ethan died. Five years ago."
Ethan let out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "Okay. Very funny. Love the ghost story vibe."
But Georgina's blood ran cold. Because deep down, in the cracks of her memory, something made sense. The way Ethan had seemed so out of place. The way he had known things about her life before she told him. The way he bled, but never healed right.
The mirror. The reflections. The voices.
Her mother stepped closer, her hand gripping Georgina's. "The mirror isn't just a doorway. It's a prison. It caught him. He wasn't supposed to leave."
Ethan stared at them both, his face drained of color. "I'm right here. You're saying I'm—what? A ghost? A hallucination?"
Madison's voice cut through, sharp and venomous. "No. You're worse. You're a remnant." She held up the shard, its surface flashing with light. "And remnants don't last forever. They fade."
Georgina's chest ached, her throat tight. "Stop it. Don't talk about him like that."
But when she looked back at Ethan—at his wide, scared eyes—she saw it. A flicker in the way his shadow bent on the rooftop. A shimmer in his outline, like he wasn't entirely solid.
Her mother squeezed her hand harder. "Georgina. If you hold on too tight to what the mirror gives you, it takes something back. That's why I disappeared. That's why your father made the deal. And now, that's why Ethan is here."
The creature shrieked again, louder, as if answering the revelation.
Ethan's breathing was ragged. His usual humor was gone, stripped bare. "If I died five years ago… how do I remember being here? How do I remember all of this?"
Madison's smile twisted. "Because the mirror gave you a false tether. A borrowed thread of time. You're nothing but a shadow of what used to be."
"Shut up!" Georgina snapped, tears blurring her vision. She turned to Ethan. "You're not a shadow. You're real. You're here."
But Ethan didn't answer right away. His gaze drifted to the shard in Madison's hand. To the photo Georgina still clutched in her pocket. To the mirror fragments below.
His voice cracked when he finally spoke. "Am I?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
The rooftop hatch slammed again, cutting the moment short.
The creature climbed up, hauling its twisted body onto the roof. Its many faces flickered wildly now—Ethan's, Georgina's, Madison's, strangers', until they blurred into a smear of features.
It locked its eyes on Ethan.
And smiled.
As though it had been waiting for him.
"Run," Georgina's mother whispered.
But Ethan didn't move. He stood, swaying on weak legs, his face pale but resolute. For once, there was no joke on his lips, no sarcastic remark to defuse the terror.
Only quiet determination.
He stepped forward, putting himself between Georgina and the creature.
"No," he said. "I'm done running."
The thing screeched, its voice like splintering glass. Madison lifted the shard, her eyes burning brighter. The rooftop hummed with impossible tension, reality itself trembling on the edge of collapse.
Georgina grabbed Ethan's arm. "Don't—you don't even know what it is!"
Ethan turned, meeting her eyes.
And for the first time since they'd met, he looked utterly honest.
"Neither do you."
The creature lunged.
The shard blazed in Madison's hand.
The rooftop exploded into light.