Clara trailed her fingertips over the mirror’s chilled glass, her heart tripping at the beckoning reflection.
Identical green eyes—but Debra’s derisive smirk.
Impossible!
We are one. Without me, there is no you. Come.
Always belittling. Always controlling.
But how do you live on when your other half is dead?
Clara sagged before her sister’s stare… and clasped the hand Debra slipped through the rippling mirrored surface as if from the depths of dark waters.
Snatched into frigid, swirling inkiness, Clara whimpered in fright.
Debra threw a vile and triumphant grin to the shadowed presence.
She’s yours, Master. Feast well.
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