Chapter Twenty-Three: The Glass Faces
A week had passed since they allowed her to leave the hospital.
The sun was far too bright, the air light, as if it didn't touch the skin at all.
Everything around her felt familiar… more than it should.
The road home, the trees, even the sound of her footsteps — all of it repeated in a strangely identical way.
She walked slowly, carrying her small bag, her eyes searching for any sign of truth.
People passed by her, smiling, greeting her…
but in the reflections of the shop windows, their faces didn't move.
The smiles remained frozen, as if printed onto the glass.
She stopped suddenly.
She stepped closer to a glass storefront and looked at the reflection of a woman walking behind her…
but when she turned around, there was no one there.
She gasped softly.
"No… not again…"
She squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them, she saw someone standing in the middle of the street.
A tall young man with black hair, wearing the same white coat she had seen in the hospital.
Niyar.
But this time, his face had no features —
only shifting gray shadows where the eyes and mouth should have been.
He slowly raised his hand and pointed at her… then vanished.
Noor ran.
She ran without direction until she found herself standing before the door of her old apartment.
She hesitated for a moment… then turned the key and went inside.
Everything was exactly as she had left it.
The room was tidy, the gray curtains in place, and the old mirror covered with the same gray cloth.
But a faint smell of iron and rust filled the air.
She approached the mirror slowly… her hand trembling.
"Are you still there?" she whispered hoarsely.
There was no answer.
But when she touched the cloth, a familiar voice came from the mirror itself:
"Welcome back home, Noor."
She collapsed onto the floor.
"Stop! I want to know the truth!"
The cloth slipped away on its own, slowly, as if someone inside had lifted it.
The mirror was dark — no reflection at all.
Then the glass began to move like the surface of black water.
Her other voice rose from the depths, soft and calm:
"The truth is simple, Noor… you are the one who created us all."
"What?!"
"Every face you have ever seen, every smile and every fear, was a reflection from within you. We are not illusions — we are parts of you."
"Then… Niyar?"
"He is the part you wanted to forget… pain, guilt, loneliness."
An image began to form on the surface of the glass:
a small child, crying in front of a broken mirror, her mother screaming behind the door.
The image repeated over and over until the scene filled the entire room.
"You remember now, don't you?"
"That day… when your father died… and you were the one who closed the door."
"No… that isn't true…"
"It is the truth your mind refused to accept."
The mirror began to glow intensely, and Niyar's voice returned — this time from directly behind her:
"Be careful, Noor… don't believe the mirror."
She turned quickly — there was no one there.
But her reflection in the mirror did not move.
It stared at her steadily… then smiled very slowly.
"You left, Noor… but we didn't."
Her heart trembled, a cold spreading through her fingers.
Then she heard light knocks on the bedroom door.
She went to open it —
and saw Dr. Layla standing there, holding her old file, wearing the same white coat.
She said with a calm smile:
"Noor, it's time for your session."
Noor looked around… the apartment had vanished.
Everything was white again.
A bed, a wall, a large mirror in the corner.
Noor smiled quietly and whispered in a tired voice:
"Am I still here… or have I gone back to the beginning?"
No one answered.
But in the corner, her reflection was laughing softly.