The house waited.
A week after Mara vanished, Eli, her younger brother, arrived in Wraithmore. He came with her last text still saved on his phone —
> "Found something strange today. A hat. I swear it blinked at me."
The locals wouldn't speak to him. They crossed themselves when he asked about the Valen Estate, whispering only one name — The Mirror Widow.
Eli ignored them. He went straight to the house at sunset, when the sky looked bruised and sick.
Inside, the air felt wrong — too still, too heavy. His flashlight flickered though the batteries were new. The silence hummed like someone was breathing behind the walls.
He found Mara's camera lying in the dust. When he picked it up, it clicked — a sound like it had just taken a picture by itself.
The small screen lit up. A new photo appeared.
It showed him, standing exactly where he was now — but behind him, in the reflection of a mirror, was Mara. Her eyes were black, her mouth open like she was screaming — only no sound came out.
He spun around. The mirror behind him was fogged, but faintly, a face began to form within it.
"Mara?" he whispered.
The fog shivered. Her voice came through, soft and broken —
> "It's not me anymore, Eli… don't look too long…"
Something began scratching behind the mirror, slow and wet, like nails dragging across skin.
He stepped back, but the door was gone. Every wall around him was now a mirror, each one showing his reflection turning a little slower than he did.
From every reflection, a whisper began:
> "Wear it…"
"Put it on…"
"Join us…"
On the chair in the center of the room lay the fascinator again. Only now, it was breathing. The feather trembled like it felt his presence.
Eli dropped the camera. He turned to run — but one of his reflections reached out first, pressing its hand against the glass.
And then, the sound of a heartbeat echoed through every mirror. Not his — hers.
The mirrors cracked. One by one, his reflections began to smile.
The next morning, the villagers saw the house's windows covered from the inside — like someone had painted over them in black.
No one went near the Valen Estate again. But sometimes, at night, if the wind is quiet enough, people say they can hear the faint click of a camera — and a voice whispering,
> "Don't look too long…"