"What in the heavens am I thinking?" Xiao Yu muttered, running a hand over the back of her neck. A stray strand of hair slid free, curling along her shoulder like a lover's sly whisper.
She froze.
Her gaze flicked to the mirror—an obnoxiously polished bronze monstrosity sitting in the corner like it owned the place. The sunlight hit its surface, and the reflection staring back made her breath froze.
That… wasn't her.
No, the person in the mirror was someone else entirely: an ethereal beauty with features too delicate, too haunting. Midnight-dark-blue hair spilled down her back like a river in mourning, and her lips, curved in a faint, mocking smile, seemed to say, Caught you, didn't I?
"Damn it," she hissed, voice tight with panic. "My mask is already cracking?"
