Soulbound
Then, slowly, it pressed its palm to the glass.
Avery felt warmth beneath her skin where the reflection touched.
“Stop,” she whispered. “You’re not real.”
The reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“You called me.”
Avery stumbled backward, shaking her head. “No. No, I didn’t—”
“You reached first,” the reflection continued, voice layered and wrong, echoing like a hundred versions of her speaking in unison. “You always do.”
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