Before Tang Fei could answer, the light flickered again, hard this time, and the mirror rippled like water.
Now it showed Tang Fei herself, her face streaked with tears, cradling a baby she didn't recognize. The reflection of her own soft sob echoed faintly through the air, distorted, like a memory warped by time.
Then, there was silence. Total silence...
Everything stopped.
The lights steadied, the air thickened, and for a long moment neither of them moved. The mirror slowly cleared, revealing only their true reflections once more, two pale faces, eyes wide, the echo of fear still trapped between them.
Tang Fei's breath trembled as she tried to steady herself. The silence pressed against her ears, heavy and damp, carrying the faint scent of wet marble and something metallic beneath it.
She lowered her gaze and suddenly froze.
Right beside her hand on the counter was a print... Small, wet, and still glistening faintly under the harsh white light.
It was a child's handprint.
