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Story: Our Last Echoes
Except that it is not a reflection at all, or not a proper one. The girl in the mirror is also blonde, also with her hair braided, also with a gray coat and jeans.
And like the girl who stands at the edge of the frame, the reflection is facing away from the camera.
5
ABBY LOOKED STRAIGHTat me. People didn’t often do that. Something about me didn’t invite direct scrutiny. But she’d seen. She’d seen what no one else had, my whole life.
I don’t know when I first realized that I didn’t have a normal reflection—or rather, that other peopledid. That their reflections didn’t move out of synch, face the wrong way, get details wrong.
“I have a reflection,” I said to Abby. Not because I thought I could fool her, but because I needed her to say it, the way I’d needed Liam to tell me what he’d seen. I needed to be sure. And so I waved at the window opposite us, and my reflection waved back.
“Yeah, no,” Abby said. “That’s not a reflection. A reflection is amirror image. You have a mole on your right cheek. Which means it should be on your reflection’s left cheek, but it isn’t. It’s on the right. Your jacket has a pocket on the left. So does the one in the reflection.”
I gave a strangled laugh. “This is tame, for me. Sometimes she does what I do, only a second too late. Sometimes she’s wearing different clothes. Or her hair is all wild, even though I always keep mine braided. Or she’s looking the wrong way.”
“Why?” Abby asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’d almost convinced myself it was all in my head.”
“It isn’t,” Abby said. Her eyes were still locked on mine, and when she spoke, each word was deliberate and clear. “Sophia, I believe you. You never have to worry that I’m going to call you crazy or think you’re seeing things that aren’t there. You are not the strangest thing I’ve come across, I promise. Okay? I believe you.”
I looked away, and bit my lip to try to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to hear those words. How much Ineededto, after all these years knowing there was something wrong with me. Instead, I’d only ever gotten frightened looks—or disgusted ones. Medication I found ways to throw away. And eventually, I’d gotten the same speech, over and over—We think you’d do better with a different placement.
“Thank you,” I said. I sank down onto the bed, my legs suddenly unable to hold me up.
She shifted, a little uncomfortable. “You should hear it when Ashford does that speech. Makeseverybodycry.”
“Ashford—that’s your boss?” I asked. “He investigates, what, paranormal stuff?”
“Dr. Ashford would say ‘inexplicable phenomena of potentially extra-natural origin,’” Abby said. “In layman’s terms, spooky shit. Most of the time it’s bunk, or else a sad lesson in the evils of totally normal human beings.”
“So how are you so sure it isn’t this time?” I pulled my feet up under me on the bed.
“My gut,” Abby said. “And that my dead sister gave me that bird. Or gave it to my boss, anyway, and I kinda stole it.”
“Stole it?” I repeated. “Wait, your boss doesn’t know you’re here?”
Abby started to pack away the things that were dry, not quite looking at me. “He tried to hide it. And then when he realized that I’d found it, he tried to forbid me to go. Wouldn’t tell me why. He just said to trust him. And I do, but... She gave it to me for a reason. She’s my sister. Was. If she wanted me to come here, I had to. So I waited until Ashford was out of town—out of the country, actually—and came by myself.” She said it lightly, but I could hear the thread of hurt beneath her words.
I shivered. “Does your sister do that a lot?” I asked. “Boss you around?”
“She’s only shown up twice since she died,” Abby said.
“What happened the first time?”
“Four people died,” Abby replied matter-of-factly. She finished with her things and hopped up into the bed, sitting at the foot while I scrunched up near the pillows. She combed her fingers through her chin-length brown hair, which only succeeded in leaving it in slightly less random clumps. “But they didn’t have me around to watch their backs. I only got there after the fact.”
It wasn’t entirely reassuring. “So how are we supposed to do this?”
“Ask questions. Investigate. Research,” she said. “This place is so full of secrets, any amount of digging should turnsomething up. And then we just chase whatever lead we can find.” She looked at me thoughtfully. “The reflection thing. Did that happen before you came here? When you were a kid, I mean.”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember it happening, but I was only three. I don’t really remember anything from that far back.”
“Still. There’s a good chance that whateverthatis,” she said, pointing at the window, “started here.” She tapped a finger against her lips. “We need to talk to the other people who were on Bitter Rock the summer your mother disappeared.”
“Dr. Kapoor and Dr. Hardcastle,” I said. “But I don’t know if they’ll talk.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do what I do best—bother people until they let something slip.” She gave me a wry smile. I decided I liked her then. I didn’t trust her, exactly. But I liked her.
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