The fog clung to her shoes as June walked down the empty street, suitcase wheels stuttering against uneven cobblestones. Maple Town felt like a dream—like a place preserved in memory, then left to rot gently in time. Familiar and wrong all at once.
The letter hadn’t given an address, only the name of the town. But something in her bones guided her. A quiet pull, a whisper under her skin.
She turned a corner and stopped.
A small inn stood at the edge of town. Moonshade Inn, the sign read in faded gold. Its windows were glowing faintly, curtains fluttering in the windless air. She didn't remember this place from before. But her feet moved toward it like they’d always known.
She entered the front room—a mixture of wood polish, lavender, and something older, like forgotten pages. A bell above the door jingled faintly.
Behind the counter sat a woman in her late forties, with short silver-streaked hair and sharp blue eyes. She looked up, and for a moment, her expression froze.
“You’re... June,” the woman said.
June blinked. “How do you know my name?”
“I run this inn. You stayed here once. A long time ago.”
June’s skin prickled. “I don’t remember.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” the woman murmured. “Your mother loved this place.”
The name tag read Leena. June tried to search her face for something familiar, but nothing clicked.
“I got a letter,” June said. “No name. Just... ‘Come to Maple Town.’ I don’t even know why I came, honestly.”
Leena hesitated, then reached under the desk and pulled out a brass key. “Room 3. It’s already prepared.”
June frowned. “Already?”
Leena smiled, but her lips trembled. “Let’s just say... I had a feeling.”
June climbed the creaky staircase, the key cool in her palm. Room 3 was at the end of the hall. She turned the key and stepped inside.
It was cozy. A bit old. Wooden floors, a velvet armchair, a small desk near the window. On the wall above the bed was a large oval mirror with a gilded frame. She stared at it.
The moonlight filtered in through sheer curtains, bathing the mirror in a strange, silver glow.
She dropped her bag and walked over to the mirror. Her reflection stared back, pale and exhausted. But as she leaned in closer, her breath caught in her throat.
Her reflection was smiling.
She wasn’t.
June stumbled back, heart thudding. The mirror image faded into normal, mirroring her fear now, her wide eyes.
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t just see that.”
She pressed her hand against the glass. Cold.
And then—words fogged across the mirror’s surface as if someone had exhaled from the other side.
> “You found me.”
June jerked her hand back. The words vanished.
She backed into the wall, unable to take her eyes off the mirror. Every instinct told her to run. But something deeper—something ancient—told her to stay.
The same whisper she heard on her birthday whispered now from deep within her: Remember.
Suddenly, the mirror’s surface shimmered like water. For the briefest moment, June saw a girl—herself, but not. Younger. Bleeding. Screaming silently behind the glass.
Then it vanished.
The room was still again.
June collapsed onto the bed, pulling her knees to her chest.
She didn’t sleep that night.
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