Narrator’s Point of View

Sleep no longer came easy to Stephanie. When it did, it arrived like a thief—silent, cold, and cruel. Each night dragged her back into the same white void, the same twin cribs swallowed by fog. Only this time, the shadows no longer reached for the babies.

They reached for her. “Wake up,” a voice whispered from somewhere deep within the mist. “You let them go.”

She turned, heart clawing against her ribs, but there was nothing except a mirror forming out of ...