Chapter 3: Precky’s reflection stopped copying her. It blinked when she didn’t. It smiled when she cried. Then, one night, it waved — and stepped back into the mirror’s darkness. She leaned closer. Inside, she saw a hallway stretching forever, shadows moving like smoke. Her reflection whispered, “Trade places?” Precky gasped — but a cold hand burst through the glass and seized her wrist. The world flipped. Shards fell like rain. When she opened her eyes, she was inside — pounding on the mirror, screaming. Outside, her reflection stood in her room, brushing her hair… smiling. Now, at midnight, if your reflection moves on its own— don’t look twice. Because Precky did. And she’s still trapped there, watching.