2. Chapter Two

Istumbled backward, slamming into the wall behind me without tearing my eyes from the reflection. I expected the shadow to move, change shape, or disappear altogether, but it lingered. Not quite the shape of a man, but tall and thin with blurred edges. It was getting darker the longer I stared, becoming more opaque by the second. I could make out a dark hood, broad shoulders, and a flowing black robe that reached the floor.

My chest seized.

After an agonizing second, I pried my gaze away from the mirror, looking to my left where the form should be, but there was nothing. No shadow. Nothing out of the ordinary in the dimly lit hall. My stomach lurched toward the floor, leaving me feeling sick, and my eyes darted back to the faceless figure lurking near me in the glass.

Blinking hard, I whispered a prayer that it would go away.

It didn't.

My chest constricted harder, making it difficult to breathe, and I choked out a noise. I was frozen, unable to think or move or scream, focused solely on the darkness in the mirror and the heaviness that settled on my shoulders. Whatever it was, it wasn't here to play. I didn't know much about demons and darkness, but there was an evilness to the shadow that rattled through my senses, setting off every alarm bell in my body.

This was the same shadow that had haunted me for so long, but it had never felt so tangible, so menacing, before. Was it a demon from the depths of hell? A poltergeist? A hallucination? An icy bite of cold air washed over my skin, chilling me to the bone, but a voice nearby pierced through the suffocating terror.

"What the hell, Jo?" Lennon's voice called. I could barely hear it over the thundering pulse in my ears, but it was there, trying to reach me. I fought to tear my eyes away from the shadow again, but they were transfixed on the darkness, like magnets drawn to the place in the mirror where the hallway disappeared and danger took its place. "Jo. Jovie. What's wrong?"

Firm fingers clenched around my wrist and swung me around. Lennon's eyes, which were stormy gray like mine, were set below furrowed brows, her lips hardened into a line. Her pale pink hair was tied messily on top of her head, like she hadn't bothered to take it down before bed, and a few curls fell loose around her face.

A moment of indecision jacked my pulse up even faster, and my breaths became erratic. The more desperately I tried to calm down, the higher my anxiety spiked, making it difficult to think or see past Lennon's familiar eyes. They were only growing more worried by the moment.

No, this wasn't what I wanted.

I'd swallowed down my panic for so long, hidden my fears and worries from her. I didn't want her to think I was crazy. I didn't want her to worry about me—quite frankly, I did enough worrying for the both of us—but as I opened my mouth to reassure her that I was fine, a sob broke free, shaking my chest.

"Jesus Christ, Jo." Lennon pulled me into her and wrapped her arms around me tightly. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

I managed to shake my head, but my thoughts were still spiraling out of control. What if I'd been imagining things and was panicking for no reason? What if it was a result of the stress? The sleep deprivation? What if I'm actually crazy?

"T-the mirror," I managed, still unsure if I wanted to come clean about the things I'd seen.

Lennon and I were thick as thieves as children—she knew all my deepest, darkest secrets—but ever since our mother's murder there had been something unspoken between us. We wanted to protect one another. We each wanted to keep the other from experiencing even more suffering, more heartache. If she believed me about seeing shadows, I knew she'd worry. Especially after finding me in my current state.

But what if she can see it too?

I pulled myself out of her embrace and met her eyes again.

"What do you see in the mirror?" I whispered, noting how one of her pale brows arched at the question. A dozen unvoiced questions reflected in her eyes, but she said nothing. I swallowed hard.

This was a mistake, and I knew it, but it was too late. The question was already hanging between us, and she was already stepping past me toward the mirror, her jaw set.

I wheeled around, my heart slamming against my ribs, searching for the same terror on her face that currently filled my soul. The air in my lungs froze in the long second I stood there waiting, but the corner of her mouth finally lifted into a smirk.

"I see a hot mess." She chuckled softly and fiddled with her hair, trying to coax some of the wilder strands to behave. "If you're trying to tell me I need my beauty rest, I hear you loud and clear."

Her eyes swung in my direction and I took a step closer, nervously looking in the mirror. I fully expected to see the shadow standing there, looming over both of us and threatening to swallow the hallway whole, but it was gone.

A tiny wave of relief rolled through me, quieting the worst of my anxiety, but something invisible still clenched my heart like a vice, refusing to let go. On the one hand, the shadow was gone, and I could breathe a little easier. On the other hand, it was gone, and I couldn't justify my fear to Lennon. I just looked insane, like I was afraid of my own reflection.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, reaching to place a tender hand on my shoulder and breaking my train of thought.

Of course I wasn't alright, but I couldn't say that. Not now.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice small. My gaze bounced between her and the mirror, and I tried to find comfort in the fact that the shadow hadn't returned. However, the only thing I felt was more dread and guilt for waking Lennon up. "I tripped and scared myself."

She frowned, her eyebrows pulling lower over her eyes as she watched me regain my composure. She could probably sense the lie—after all, she knew me better than anyone else—but I kept talking before she could say anything else.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Len." I took a step backwards down the hall toward my room. "I'm just fucking tired. You can go back to bed."

She didn't move. "Are you sure? I can stay up for a bit if you want…"

I shook my head adamantly. "No." The word came out harsher than I intended. "I'm fine. We both need sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Spinning on my heel, I hurried to my room and quickly closed the door behind me. My hands were shaking, fingers trembling from the fear and adrenaline slamming through my veins, and I stood there until I heard Lennon pace back to her room and close the door.

Only then did the corners of my eyes begin to prick with tears, and I blinked hard to chase away the sensation.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Turning to face my small bedroom, I should have felt at home, at peace. I should have felt safe, but as my gaze flicked to the full-length mirror in the corner, my blood ran cold again. I didn't want to look at it, didn't want to risk seeing the shadow again. I was afraid that if I looked for it, the thing would be there waiting for me.

However, the way the plastic-framed glass was situated, there was no avoiding it. From the corner, it reflected nearly the entire room, including me still standing by the door.

Throat tight, I stepped across the space in a few long strides and grabbed the cheap mirror, trying my best to avoid looking at it. I wrenched open the closet door and shoved it inside, swiftly slamming the door closed once more.

A shaky exhale made my lip tremble. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would do for now.

There was no way I could avoid every mirror forever, but I could avoid them whenever possible. It wouldn't make the shadow go away—nothing I ever tried worked—but at least I'd see less of it. Or so I hoped.

I changed into a set of powder blue pajama shorts and a tank top, my mind still spinning out of control from the remnants of adrenaline lingering in my system. I was too tired for a shower, but I doubted I'd get much sleep, not when the shadow was plaguing my thoughts, eating through my brain until it was all that remained. I wished there was something, anything, I could do to rid myself of the nightmare it was becoming.

What could I even do to combat something only I could see? It wasn't like I could reach out and touch it.

Maybe it really was all in my head…

Crawling into bed, I pulled the comforter up to my chin and closed my eyes. If I couldn't see the shadow, it couldn't bother me. I could pretend it wasn't there, that it didn't make my heart race and the air stick in my lungs every time it appeared. I could revel in the solace that the backs of my eyelids brought and pretend everything was okay.

I could pretend, but I knew when morning came it would be the same thing all over again. There was no way for me to truly escape the shadow.

I would never be safe.