Chapter 49 — Reflection Games

Chapter 49 — Reflection Games
The second we stepped into the East Building, the temperature dropped by like, ten degrees. Not that I was counting. But Lucas immediately pulled me a little closer, and suddenly, the cold didn’t matter that much.

“I’m getting déjà vu,” I whispered.

Lucas shot me a look. “Because the last time we were here, we almost got eaten by a haunted version of ourselves?”

“That, and the mold smell,” I said, scrunching my nose. “Seriously, does evil just love water damage?”

He snorted softly. “Pretty sure evil prefers dramatic lighting and echoey hallways.”

“Well, it’s nailing the aesthetic,” I muttered, hugging my arms. “Ten out of ten for creepy ambience.”

We moved quietly, our steps muffled on the dusty tile. Lena had stayed behind this time—she was watching the school cameras, texting us updates if anyone came near. Honestly, I missed her already. Lena made the horror feel manageable. Lucas made it feel… personal.

“Are we sure Jamie’s still in here?” I whispered.

Lucas paused at a hallway junction, peering down both sides. “He has to be. We haven’t seen him leave. And that weird shimmer? It’s getting stronger.”

He was right. The air shimmered faintly at the far end of the corridor—like heat waves, but cold.

Lucas reached into his jacket and pulled out a compact mirror, the one he’d started carrying after everything went sideways. I’d teased him about it once. He said it was for “emergencies.” I didn’t realize back then he meant supernatural ones.

“Still looks normal,” he murmured, checking it.

“Maybe the mirror realm’s playing hard to get,” I said.

He smirked. “Or maybe it’s waiting.”

I didn’t like that thought. Not at all.

We crept forward, the shimmer growing stronger. Every step felt heavier. My nerves were fraying, and I didn’t know if it was the tension or the fact that I was walking next to Lucas and we still hadn’t fully talked about The Kiss 2.0 from the hallway.

You know. The almost one.

The one Lena ruined with her very important, totally justified, life-saving interruption.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said softly.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “Shut up. I’m serious.”

“I can tell. That’s your Serious Voice.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Do you ever… wonder what we’d be like if the switch never happened?”

Lucas slowed, glancing at me. “You mean if we never got cursed, possessed, emotionally unhinged?”

“Well, yeah. If we’d just stayed in our own bodies and kept hating each other.”

“Hating’s a strong word.”

I blinked. “You literally called me a walking serotonin deficiency in freshman year.”

He coughed. “That was before I knew you weren’t a monster.”

“Oh, so I grew on you?”

“Like mold,” he deadpanned.

I shoved him again, but lightly this time. “You’re the worst.”

He didn’t answer. Just gave me a look—soft, amused, lingering. It made my stomach flip in that awful, delicious way.

“I think,” he said, “if we hadn’t switched, I wouldn’t have known you. Not really.”

I swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re… different than I thought.”

I tried to laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean it.” His voice was quiet now. “You’re… brave. Smart. Annoyingly persistent. Funny, in a ‘makes fun of me constantly’ kind of way.”

“And devastatingly cute,” I added.

Lucas looked at me, eyes flickering. “That too.”

Before I could respond, a loud clang echoed down the hall.

We both froze.

“What was that?” I whispered.

Lucas didn’t answer. He was already moving, fast and low, toward the noise. I followed, heart hammering.

We rounded the corner and—

There was a mirror. A new one. Propped against the wall like someone had dragged it there recently. It wasn’t glowing, but the surface rippled subtly, like water disturbed by wind.

And in front of it stood Jamie Carter.

Or something that looked like him.

He was talking. To the mirror.

No sound came out.

Lucas held me back. “Wait.”

Jamie turned slightly. His reflection didn’t match the movement. It lagged—just a second behind.

Then it smiled.

But Jamie didn’t.

“Oh god,” I breathed. “It’s not him.”

Lucas nodded grimly. “It’s the Unself.”

The reflection stepped forward—right through the mirror.

Jamie’s body jolted once, then slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.

The mirror-version straightened, stretched its neck, and looked directly at us.

“Run,” Lucas hissed.

But I was already backing away. The Unself tilted its head, studying us. Like it remembered. Like it was happy to see us.

“I missed you,” it said in a voice that sounded like Jamie’s, twisted and hollow.

Lucas pulled me behind him. “You’re not welcome here.”

“A shame,” the Unself purred. “We could’ve had so much fun.”

It took a step forward, and the hallway lights flickered.

“We stopped you once,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “We’ll do it again.”

The Unself laughed. “You stopped one of us.”

My blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”

“There’s more,” it whispered. “There are always more.”

Suddenly, every mirror in the hallway shimmered. And then—one by one—they began to crack.

Not break. Crack. As if something on the other side was trying to claw its way out.

Lucas grabbed my hand. “We have to go. Now.”

We turned and ran, mirrors groaning around us. One shattered, and a hand shot out, clawing at empty air. Another exploded behind us, shards flying like knives.

We bolted through the corridors, back toward the main building. My lungs burned, my legs screamed—but I didn’t stop. Not while Lucas was still holding my hand like he was afraid to let go.

We didn’t slow until we were back in the lit hallway of the main school building.

Only then did I let myself breathe.

Lucas let go of my hand but hovered close. His shirt was torn near the shoulder, a scratch bleeding.

“You’re hurt!” I reached for him.

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing it off.

“You’re bleeding.”

“And you’re trembling,” he said gently. “So let’s both pretend we’re fine.”

I gave a watery laugh.

“Rae…”

I looked up.

Lucas was staring at me. That look again—quiet, intense, like he was searching for something he couldn’t name.

“If anything had happened to you—” he started.

“But it didn’t,” I cut in, stepping close.

“You always do that,” he said.

“What?”

“Jump into danger. For other people. For me.”

“That’s what you do too.”

He nodded once. “I think we’re both insane.”

“You know what’s really crazy?” I asked softly.

He raised a brow.

“This weird thing between us… the almost-kisses, the stupid jokes, the life-or-death bonding… I think I want more of it.”

Lucas didn’t blink. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He looked like he was about to say something—maybe kiss me again.

And then—

RING!

The school bell. Loud. Jarring.

We both jumped.

Lucas groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

I laughed—really laughed, for the first time in what felt like days.

Then Lena’s voice buzzed in through our phones. “Guys. You need to see this. Now. There’s another video. And this time… it’s you.”

My laughter died instantly.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘us’?”

Lena sent the clip.

We opened it.

The screen showed a grainy recording—clearly from security footage.

And in it?

Two figures.

Walking into the East Building.

Us.

Only we hadn’t looked like that. Our faces were blank. Our movements stilted. Like puppets.

And at the bottom, the timestamp read:

Tomorrow.

1:17 PM.

Cliffhanger Ending:

Lucas looked at me, his voice barely a whisper. “That hasn’t happened yet.”

I stared at the screen, heart thudding.

“Then what will happen tomorrow?”