Chapter NineThird POV

The room was dark except for the mirror.

It shimmered faintly, light rippling across its surface like water touched by wind. Clara stood before it, her reflection soft and pale, her eyes cold.

“Are you there?” she whispered.

For a moment, the glass stayed still. Then a faint image began to form blurred at first, then clear. The impostor’s face appeared, her features drawn and tired.

“I’m here,” the woman said. Her voice was low, nervous. “He let me stay. ...