Chapter Fifteen
The Reflection That Lied
Darkness didn't feel like sleep.
It felt like being erased.
Piece by piece.
Amelia opened her eyes—but not to the world she remembered.
She was lying on glass. Cold, smooth, and endless.
Above her was a ceiling of black water. Beneath her, a mirror—but not her own reflection.
It was someone else's.
The girl in the mirror was her—but not. Her hair was longer, eyes paler. Her mouth was curled into a slight smile that didn't reach the eyes.
"Hello, Amelia," the reflection said.
Amelia sat up slowly. Her limbs were sluggish, as though they were moving through fog. She looked down again—the girl was still there, still copying her movements... but a split second late.
"Where am I?"
"Nowhere the lake can hear us," said the reflection. "But not safe."
Amelia stood.
The glass floor stretched in every direction—no walls, no corners, just endless space and flickering reflections. Some of them whispered. Some banged against the underside of the mirror like prisoners.
"This is the layer between mirrors," the reflection explained. "A liminal space. A place the lake forgets exists."
Amelia frowned. "You're not me."
The reflection tilted her head. "No. I'm what the lake wanted you to become. The obedient version. The one who chooses the mirror and doesn't question the story."
The air around them grew colder. Tiny cracks formed under Amelia's feet, spiderwebbing outward.
"Why am I here?"
"Because you chose wrong," the reflection said gently. "You were meant to pick a memory. Not a door."
"But I saw her. My mother."
The reflection smiled, sad and sharp. "Yes. You saw the truth. That's why you're dangerous now."
Suddenly, the mirror cracked louder, and black mist began seeping from below. Whispering.
Calling her name again.
Not kindly this time.
Amelia...
A-mel-ia...
Give it back...
"What does the lake want from me?" she asked.
The reflection stepped closer. "Everything. Your memories. Your choices. Your identity. It will wear your face better than you ever could, and it will use it to lure others in."
Amelia's voice shook. "And if I don't give it?"
The reflection stepped even closer, nose nearly touching the glass.
Then it grinned—wide. Unnatural.
"Then it will take it."
The mirror shattered.
Amelia screamed.
And she fell—again—into light.
⸻
She hit stone hard.
Her eyes flew open.
The Mirror Core.
The real one.
Kaia was shaking her. Marah was kneeling nearby, blade drawn, eyes wide.
"You're back!" Kaia shouted.
Amelia sat up, gasping. "I saw her. I saw everything. We have to destroy the lake."
But before she could say another word—she saw something behind Kaia.
Standing quietly.
Still.
Another Amelia.
Smiling.
Her reflection had followed her out.
Kaia froze.
Marah's sword hand twitched.
The other Amelia stood in the shadows behind them—same face, same clothes, but too perfect. Her smile didn't waver. Her eyes gleamed, cold and still.
"I'm... right here," Amelia said, voice raw from the fall.
Kaia glanced between the two of them, confusion flickering into fear. "What the hell...?"
The reflection took a step forward. "It's okay," she said, mimicking Amelia's voice to terrifying precision. "I'm just... disoriented. That was a lot."
Amelia stood. "That's not me."
The reflection turned her head slowly—an unnatural tilt that made Kaia recoil.
"Of course I'm you," it said, sweetly. "Don't you remember choosing me?"
Amelia's skin prickled. "I didn't choose anything. You followed me out."
"Semantics," the reflection replied with a smile that didn't blink. "You cracked the mirror. I slipped through."
Marah stepped between them now, sword gleaming faintly with charm-light. "Which one of you is real?"
Amelia raised her hand, showing the thin scar on her wrist—just beneath the chain. "I have the mark. She doesn't."
The reflection's gaze flicked to the scar, then to Marah, lips twitching. "Scars are easy to fake."
"But memory isn't," Amelia snapped. "Ask me something. Something only the real me would know."
Kaia hesitated, then narrowed her eyes. "What did you tell me the night we first met by the lake? When I asked why you weren't afraid?"
Amelia didn't hesitate. "I said: I'm already broken. What's left to be afraid of?"
Kaia's breath caught.
The reflection's smile faltered for half a second.
Then—black veins spread from her eyes, curling down her cheeks like cracks.
The room groaned. The mirrors lining the Core began to tremble.
"I liked it better when you were quiet," the reflection hissed, voice layered now—hers, and something older. Something ancient.
It lunged.
Marah swung her sword, but the blade passed through nothing but smoke—the reflection vanished, reappearing behind her, mouth stretching open with an inhuman screech.
Kaia grabbed Amelia's hand. "The Core's destabilizing. It can't hold two of the same soul!"
Amelia turned to the glowing pillar in the center of the chamber—the true mirror, the one that watched them all.
It was flickering.
Glitching.
Like it couldn't decide who the real one was.
"We have to trap her," Amelia said. "Before she decides to trap me."
The reflection let out a garbled laugh—like water choking on a scream. "You think you know what the lake wants? You're not even awake yet."
It reached toward the central mirror.
And the surface—accepted her hand.
The lake was choosing.
And it wasn't choosing Amelia.