Chapter 5: My Mirror Might Be Haunted

Lila Monroe walked home with the haunted file clutched to her chest like it might bite her.

The city buzzed softly in the background—cars, chatter, distant music. But inside her head, it was just one long echo of What did I just see? The pale face from the computer screen was burned into her memory, sharp and eerie, like a photograph snapped at the wrong second.

She had told Victor she'd finish reviewing the client details at home. That was a lie. The only thing she was reviewing was her life choices.

"Don't talk to ghosts at the workplace," she muttered under her breath. "Also maybe don't bring them home like cursed office supplies."

By the time she reached her apartment, the sun had dipped low. The golden hour should've felt cozy, magical even. Instead, it cast long shadows that danced far too much for comfort.

Her apartment was small, tidy, and warm—a place where candles flickered and blankets were everywhere. It was her safe zone.

Or… used to be.

She dropped her bag, tossed her keys into the dish, and peeled off her blazer, trying to shake off the office weirdness. The file still sat in her hands. She stared at it like it might sprout legs and start running.

Then, just as she passed the hallway mirror—

She froze.

There. Again.

That face.

Pale. Hollow-eyed. Staring from inside the mirror like it lived in the reflection and had just been waiting for her to come home.

Lila's breath caught in her throat. She whipped around—nothing. Turned back—gone.

She backed away slowly, heart racing, goosebumps chasing down her spine. "Okay. Okay. Not a ghost. Just… a trick of the light. Very pale lighting. Aggressively pale."

The file sat on the coffee table now.

She didn't remember putting it there.

Before she could spiral any further, her phone buzzed.

Sasha: Outside your door. I bring food and zero judgment.

Lila exhaled hard and jogged to the door, yanking it open like a lifeline. Her best friend stood there with two pizza boxes, a wine bottle, and a devilish grin.

Sasha was the one person who knew everything—about the ghosts, the visions, the pale faces in places they didn't belong. She'd known since college, when Lila accidentally described her dead great-aunt's perfume in disturbing detail. Instead of running, Sasha stayed. That made her rare. And valuable. Especially now.

"Still alive, I see," Sasha said, brushing past her like she owned the place. "No haunted energy clinging to you or anything—except maybe your hair. What's going on up there? Looks like it's seen a ghost."

"I have seen a ghost," Lila muttered. "You're late. I was about to get possessed alone."

"Please," Sasha scoffed. "You'd make such a dramatic host body. The ghost would leave out of exhaustion."

Lila locked the door behind her. "Thanks for the support."

Sasha flopped onto the couch and opened the pizza like it was sacred. "Alright, spill it. You've been texting me like a Victorian widow who just witnessed her third haunting."

Lila sat beside her, rubbing her temples. "So… I saw a ghost. Again. But this time at work. In the CEO's office."

Sasha blinked. "Victor Sterling? That man looks like he was carved from marble and emotionally repressed since birth. You're telling me his office is haunted?"

"Worse," Lila said. "I saw a floating paper crane appear out of thin air right behind his desk. It moved. Like it was watching us. Then later, I saw a face in my computer monitor—like a reflection, but not mine."

Sasha's eyes widened. "Okay, no offense, but this sounds like the plot of a horror movie where the intern dies first."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"And this guy—Victor—did he see anything?"

"No! He just looked at me like I was a malfunctioning vending machine. I tried to act normal. Failed spectacularly. Then I tripped and fell on him like some dollar-store Hallmark movie heroine."

Sasha gasped dramatically. "You fell on the CEO?"

"Full body contact. Minimal dignity. His arms were… very solid. Like disturbingly solid."

Sasha waggled her eyebrows. "Girl. Ghosts and granite-armed CEOs? This job keeps giving."

Lila rolled her eyes. "Focus. The real issue is the file. The ghost stuff started when I opened this." She gestured to the folder on the table. "Now it's following me. The same face just showed up in my mirror."

Sasha leaned forward, serious now. "You think it's the same spirit? From the office?"

Lila nodded. "Same pale face. Same hollow stare. Like it's attached to this file somehow."

Sasha chewed thoughtfully. "So your first week includes: a haunted document, a mysterious CEO, floating objects, mirror ghosts, and a romantic pratfall. Sounds like you're officially the main character."

"I don't want to be the main character," Lila groaned. "I just wanted a job with health insurance. Not… abs and apparitions."

Sasha grinned. "Wait—abs?"

Lila blushed. "I was trying not to notice! But falling against him was like slamming into a marble statue that shops at Armani."

Lila grabbed a slice of pizza. "If I find out Victor's secretly a vampire, I'm suing someone."

"Please. That man drinks black coffee and stares into the void for fun. If he's a vampire, he's the brooding literary kind."

They both laughed—Lila's a little tired, Sasha's loud and unbothered. The rest of the evening passed quietly. No more ghost sightings, unless you counted Sasha dramatically reading horror headlines to "prepare her for the worst."

By morning, Lila had almost convinced herself it had all been a weird, overworked fluke.

Until she opened the file again.

The first page was exactly what she remembered—a client report from 1997.

With Victor Sterling's name typed neatly in the author line.

"But he would've been... what, one or two?" she whispered.

She flipped to the second page.

She flipped to the second page.

That's when she noticed something new—an internal memo clipped to the back.

Typed in the same formal tone:

Prepared by: Victor R. Sterling, Sr.

Lila blinked.

Victor Sr.? As in… grandfather?