Mirror People

Part III

A sharp left turn led the investigator back into the hallway, where his reflections greeted him once again. The narrow one at the top of the stairs looked down at him, its wide grin shaping its dark eyes. "Where are you going?" It asked him. He didn't stop.

Down the stairs, a turn through a doorway, and back up the stairs, he managed to find himself back at the once locked room. The key was on the floor, nearly hidden beneath the strings of the carpet, and inside, the girl was standing in the center, her hand inside a piece of mirror.

"Lucie!" The investigator lunged into the room, grabbed the child, and pulled, but looking into the mirror, held loosely between her fingers, he could see her reflection was stronger, and it was latched onto her other wrist.

"We know you." The investigator's own reflection whispered around him. Pieces of his face, scattered across the room. "We know you. All about you. About your daughter. And the car. Somehow you survived, only to have guilt follow you wherever you go."

"You don't know me."

"But we do." The voices seemed to come from all over the room. Every corner. Echoing across the walls. The floor. "You can't save this child. You couldn't even save your own."

He pulled the girl as hard as he could, trying to pry the piece of shattered glass away with his other hand, but the grip was too strong. His head jerked sideways, and he spotted a large piece of mirror on the ground. Inside of it, an image of his daughter appeared between the shattered lines. He turned his head quickly away, but she was everywhere. In every mirror. At every corner. "Little Grace. Only five years old. You couldn't protect her in your world, but she's here. In our world. Alive. If you come with us, you can see her again."

He stopped pulling. The room was silent for twenty seconds.

"If you come with us, you can be a father again."

He looked at his daughter's eyes through the glass. Blue, like the ocean. Like the sea. A cracked line split them down the middle. He missed those eyes. Seeing them again out in front of him killed him inside. He lifted his hand, wanting so desperately to reach out to her; but a voice, small and soft, made him turn. He remembered the promise he made. I will protect you. "Please." Lucie whispered.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. "Lucie." He whispered. "We have to crack it."

"The pot."

Without letting go of the girl, he reached over to his left, where a cracked pot sat tipped over on its side. He grasped it with his thumb and forefinger and slid it towards him.

"This girl isn't your child. You don't need to protect her. Come to our world. Come be with Grace."

He lifted the pot, and with his other hand, clutched onto the mirror that was pulling on Lucie's hand. His daughters gazed at him through the glass.

"Your not Grace." He whispered, as he lifted his hand and smashed the pot down onto the mirror. A scream came from the shattered glass, as it spread itself across the carpet. Lucie pulled out her hand, and wrapped her arms around the inspector who lifted her up and ran as fast as he could out of that room.

They darted down the stairs, the investigator nearly tripping, but regaining his balance. Eyes followed them as they did. Mirrors reaching out. Lucie buried her face in the investigator's shoulder. Not until they had made it down the stairs, through the hallway, and out the door, did he set her down.

"Are you okay?" He asked her, bending down beside her. She reached out and hugged him tightly. "Hey." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "I told you I'd protect you. Nothing can hurt you, okay. I'm here." He had said the very same thing to his own daughter. Right before the crash. Snow had coated the roads, their car was sliding. The five-year-old in the back seat gripped onto her car seat. Hey, he said to her, Nothing can hurt you. I'll protect you.

This time, he knew. He really had.

The girl pulled away from the hug, looked at the house again. "She told me that if I went with her, I wouldn't have to go back to the home."

"Your reflection said that?"

"She said that in her world, my parents were still alive, and I could live with them. She said that her world was better than this one." She looked up at the inspector, her eyes watered. "I was going to go with her."

The investigator took her hand. He searched for her eyes. Blue. He hadn't noticed before. "She was lying, Lu. She was lying." The sun was rising ahead of them. Orange and red light hit their faces. "You don't need a better world, Lucie. You have this one. And we can make it better." He started walking, motioning for her to follow.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure. But we know too much now. We can't stay here."

"We'll find a new world?"

He took her hand. "We'll build one."