!free! - Desiree Dul

The reflection shook its head slowly. Then it pressed a phantom hand against the inside of the glass—and the glass cracked.

At first, nothing. Her own tired face, a stray hair, the beige sweater. Then she blinked—and the reflection blinked back a half-second too late. desiree dul

Then, on a Tuesday, she found the box.

She dropped the mirror. It clattered but didn’t break. When she picked it up again, her reflection was smiling. Desirée was not. The reflection shook its head slowly

“Give it back,” Dee whispered.