part 2 The reflection

Chapter 2: The Reflection

The days began to blend together in a peaceful routine. Mark was busy with work from home, setting up an office in one of the smaller rooms. Emma and Ben, with the boundless energy of children in a new space, spent their days exploring the house and the surrounding land, making up stories about the mysterious barn in the back and the strange woods that bordered the property.

But it was Sarah who felt the weight of their new life the most. As much as she had longed for this fresh start, there was a nagging feeling that lingered with her, something she couldn't quite put into words. She would stand by the kitchen window, staring out at the vastness of the fields, and feel… disconnected. It wasn't the house—it was beautiful, calm, and spacious—but something about the silence unsettled her. It was as if the world outside had a history she didn't understand, one that seemed to seep into the air.

One afternoon, after the children had gone outside to play, Sarah wandered the house alone, trying to find something that would bring her peace. She'd grown used to the quiet, but there were moments when it felt like the house was holding its breath. In the hallway, she noticed an old mirror, one that hadn't caught her attention before. It hung on the wall opposite a tall window, and the sunlight from outside shone through it in a way that made it seem almost alive.

Curious, she approached it. The mirror's frame was ornate, an intricate design of vines and flowers, aged with time. As she studied her reflection, something strange happened. The image before her wasn't quite right. At first, it seemed like the shadows were deeper, the lines around her eyes more pronounced than they should be. But it wasn't just her appearance that seemed odd—there was something about the way she stood in the reflection. The woman in the mirror didn't seem to belong to this moment, as if she was from a different time, a different version of herself.

Sarah blinked, shaking her head. She chalked it up to fatigue. After all, they had just moved in, and there were so many things to adjust to. Maybe the quiet was playing tricks on her mind. She stepped away from the mirror and continued down the hallway, but the unease didn't leave her.

That night, when she went to bed, the feeling lingered. Mark had fallen asleep quickly, and Sarah lay awake, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't shake the sense that the house was holding something back from her, something that was hidden just beneath the surface. She closed her eyes, trying to find sleep, but her thoughts were interrupted by a soft, almost imperceptible sound. A whisper of movement in the hallway.

She sat up, heart pounding, but when she opened the bedroom door to check, there was nothing—only the moonlight pouring in through the window, casting its pale glow on the old wooden floors.

Still, the feeling of being watched didn't fade. It was as if the house itself was reflecting something she hadn't yet understood. Sarah had always believed in the power of new beginnings, but in this house, something was calling her to look deeper—into herself, into the history of the place, and into the past she had left behind.

In the morning, Sarah found herself back at the mirror, staring at her reflection. This time, the image looked normal, but the feeling remained, like a shadow at the edges of her vision.

Maybe it wasn't the house that was unsettled. Maybe it was her.