The Silent Mirror and the Lies That Broke My Family
I walked toward my truck, my boots splashing through the puddles.
I carefully placed Leo in the car seat I had installed in the back.
I buckled him in, making sure the blanket was wrapped securely around him.
He looked up at me with wide, dark eyes.
“We’re going home, Leo,” I whispered.
I closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
My phone, still sitting on the dashboard, lit up.
I picked it up.
It was an alert from the home security system back at my house.
The motion detector in the nursery had been triggered.
I stared at the screen.
The camera feed showed a shadow moving across the empty room.
And then, the phone began to ring.
The screen showed a restricted number.
I pressed answer and put the phone to my ear.
“Daniel,” a voice whispered.
It wasn’t Margaret.
It wasn’t Caleb.
It was a voice I hadn’t heard in years.
“You shouldn’t have looked in the mirror,” the voice said.
The line went dead.
I stared at the black screen of my phone.
My breath fogged the cold glass of the windshield.