He rummaged through the refrigerator until he located some thin sliced roast turkey and a package of Gouda cheese. John set the items on the counter and went back in for some mayo and a bottle of hot mustard. When something rustled the bottom of his pajama pants, John jumped two feet in the air. He whirled around with the bottle of mustard in his hand out in front of him like it was a weapon.
"Meow."
John let out a relieved chuckle when he saw Tut sitting at his feet. "No, buddy. I don't have anything here for you."
"Meow."
"Okay, okay," John said and grabbed a slice of the turkey.
He tore it up into tiny pieces and set them on the floor in front of the cat. Tut quickly devoured every bit. "That's all you get," John said and turned back to his sandwich makings on the counter.
While he spread mustard and mayo on two slices of bread, John could hear the cat's claws clicking on the floor as he sauntered out of the room.
John almost had a heart attack again when he heard the back door open and close. He turned around this time with a knife in his hand, to find Sammy standing by the door in a white nightgown. She was clutching a bouquet of lavender from the garden, and her bare feet were caked with dirt.
"Sammy, what are you doing?"
"For the centerpiece." She responded and began a slow shuffle toward the dining room.
Sammy was sleepwalking, and that wasn't something that John had ever seen her do before that night. He followed her at a distance and watched her put the lavender in the vase on the dining room table. After that, she walked to the base of the stairs and stopped in front of the mirror.
"Go to bed, baby," John said gently.
"Okay," Sammy responded dreamily.
She started walking up the stairs, and John tried to ignore the fact that she was a quarter of the way up before her reflection vanished from the mirror. He hurried back into the kitchen and put all of the sandwich makings away. His appetite was gone. Like a child trying to ignore a movie that was too scary, John closed his eyes when he walked past the mirror to go upstairs.
Being old-fashioned, he didn't typically share the bed with Sammy since they weren't married yet, but that night he slept next to her on top of the covers. John told himself that he was protecting her, but in the back of his mind, he knew he was a little bit frightened over the things that had been happening in the house since she'd hung up that mirror.
Chapter Eight
John had already gone to work when Sammy woke up the next morning, but that wasn't unusual because she got up late and John had to be at work early. She was a bit disturbed to find that her feet were dirty, and she had to strip the sheets before getting into the shower.
Sammy showered and dressed in a fog because she felt like she hadn't slept at all. Downstairs in the kitchen, she found a note from John telling her to call him if she needed anything. He'd even drawn a little heart on the sticky note. Perhaps he knew something about why her feet were covered in dirt, and she'd ask him that night when she got home from work.
Sammy got some eggs out of the fridge. She figured that perhaps a hearty breakfast would break her out of the haze that wouldn't shake. Two dippy eggs, a high fiber English muffin, and a bowl of melon seemed healthy and filling enough.
After grabbing the stick of butter from the fridge, Sammy sliced off a pat with a knife. She stood in front of the stove waiting for the pan to heat up. Once it was hot, she dropped the butter in and watched it sizzle and melt. After picking up the skillet and moving it around so that the butter coated the bottom completely, Sammy cracked both eggs and let them plop into the pan one at a time.
She grabbed a bread knife from the block and sliced the English muffin in half. Sammy thought about it for a moment as it toasted. "Do I want to butter it?" She asked Tut who'd joined her in the kitchen.
"Meow."
"You're right. It's just not the same without butter. I'll have a little."
The eggs were set before the muffin popped from the toaster, so Sammy scooped them up and let them slide onto a pale blue Corelle dinner plate. The toaster popped and she smeared a substantial amount of butter on each side. She set the plate on the dining room table and went back into the kitchen to grab the container of cut up melon from the fridge.
After a few minutes of eating, Sammy found herself swaying to a lovely song being hummed from behind her. It should have scared her, but it didn't even occur to her to be frightened. She finished her breakfast and then cleaned up the kitchen.
After a short walk around the block for fresh air, Sammy went to work. Fortunately, once she was out of the house, the fog lifted. Unfortunately, the memory of dirty feet and disembodied humming left with the fog.
Work was routine that day. Sammy had a good team, and they kept the new ward running like a well-oiled machine despite the fact that it was all somewhat unfamiliar. The first part of the shift was spent getting the patients to and from their therapy appointments and group meetings.
When the administration and doctors left for the day, it was time for dinner. That night, all of the patients walked to the cafeteria quietly. No one complained about what was served for dinner, and that almost never happened. Even though it was burgers and fries, there had always been someone who wasn't in the mood for that meal.
Everyone ate their dinner quietly, and a couple of the new residents made polite conversation. Lucy, a patient who'd been moved from the old ward to the new one as soon as it opened, smiled and made jokes with a new patient named Garret.
Sammy thought it was a good sign. Lucy had been moved to the new ward for increasingly violent behavior. If she was making conversation and smiling, it meant that her medication adjustments had worked. If that were the case, Lucy would have a chance at being released in the near future.
After dinner, most of the patients went to bed early. Most of the residents of the high-security ward were on heavy-duty medications, and they were often sleepy after eating and taking their last medications for the day.
Around nine in the evening, Sammy was standing at the nurses' station talking to Jessica, one of the LPNs. They had about ten minutes before the next round of bed checks, and there wasn't much to do. Downtime was rare in the new ward, so they were taking full advantage of the opportunity to relax.
"How are the renovations going?" Jessica asked.
"Good. Hopefully, we'll be done before it starts to get cold outside. Of course, we could probably get it done much faster if we weren't confined to working on it during our time off." Sammy answered.
"What's it like having more space?"
"I wouldn't know," Sammy said with a chuckle. "There's thick tarp hanging where the wall used to be. We're trying to keep from having to pay to air condition the other side for now."
"What do you have to do to make the other side usable?" Jessica asked.
"Not much. It's in good shape, but each half of the house is decorated differently. We'll have to do paint and flooring at the least." Sammy said. "Oh, and there are two kitchens. We're going to decide which one we like better and then get rid of the other one."
"Any idea what you're going to do with the added space?"
"Not really. The house is massive, and we didn't really think it through." Sammy laughed.
"Hey, what's that?" Jessica asked as all of the color drained from her face.
"What's what?" Sammy asked. She hadn't caught on that Jessica was looking at something behind her.
"Sammy, call an ambulance!" Jessica said and darted around Sammy. "Curtis!" Jessica shouted for the security guard.
It was then that Sammy spun around and saw the blood oozing out from under Lucy's door. "Oh my god!" Sammy exclaimed.
She darted for Lucy's door behind Jessica. Jessica scanned her badge, and the lock popped open. She pushed through, and they found Lucy laid out on the floor with her arms slashed from wrist to elbow.
"I'm calling 911," Curtis said when he appeared in the doorway. "You guys work on her."
&n
bsp; Sammy hit the alarm button on the inside of the room that would lock down the rest of the rooms until one of them gave the all clear. It also alerted the charge nurse in the other ward. Seconds later she could hear the squeaking of shoes as at least two people came running toward the high-security ward.
Susan looked into the room and saw that Sammy didn't need help restraining a patient. "I'll grab the med kit." She called and disappeared from view.
Susan opened the kit and handed gauze pads to Jessica and Sammy as soon as she returned to the room. Both of them did their best to apply pressure to Lucy's wounds. The gauze soaked through as all of the color drained from Lucy's unconscious body.
"Grab the bed sheets," Sammy commanded when they ran out of gauze.
A few minutes later, Curtis appeared again with two paramedics in tow. "We've got this." One of them said. Sammy and Jessica stood back while the paramedics shot blood-clotting agent into the wounds. Sam had heard about the foam-like substance being used by combat medics, but she'd had no idea it was available for EMTs to use.
Once they'd slowed the bleeding as much as possible, one of the paramedics put an IV needle into Lucy's arm and held a bag of saline up above her body. They loaded her onto a gurney and wheeled it out of the room.
"Someone will call you." One of them said to Sammy as they took her off the ward.
"Thank you." She said and nodded her head.
Once they'd cleared the lockdown, Sammy, Jessica, and Susan completed their incident reports. "Those mirrors are supposed to be unbreakable," Susan said. "How did she do that?"
"I have no idea. I can't believe she tried to kill herself." Jessica said. "She was doing so much better. She was even socializing at dinner."
"Maybe she was just trying to make us think she was okay," Sammy said, but she didn't believe a word she was saying. Something was off, and the fact that it had to do with the mirror gave her chills. "Perhaps she'd had it planned for a while."
"Is that what you think?" Susan asked skeptically. "Do you honestly believe she was just putting on a show waiting for the opportunity to kill herself? I mean, Lucy was never really suicidal. She got moved to the high-security ward for violent behavior, but killing herself was never part of her psychological profile. That would have to be completely new behavior for her."
"What else could it be?" Sammy asked with resignation.
Chapter Nine
The part-time charge nurse was called in the next day so that Sammy could take a day off. She insisted that she was fine to work, but her boss, Mrs. Lancaster, asserted that Sammy take a day to make sure that she was coping well.
"The first patient you lose is always the most difficult. Others will come close, but none of them will ever be quite like the first. And, it happened so soon into your new assignment. I need to make sure you're fresh and ready for your patients when you come back. Take the day off, and if you want to talk to one of the doctors, we can arrange that." Mrs. Lancaster said.
"I don't want you to think I can't handle the job." Sammy protested.
"Samantha, I don't think that. If I had any doubts about you, I never would have given you the position. I don't question my choice at all. You guys did an excellent job handling the situation. I have every confidence in the team."
Sammy still hadn't had a chance to talk to John about the other night. She insisted to herself that everything was okay. Dealing with suicide was part of the job, and she'd known that before choosing her major.
Around midmorning after breakfast, Sammy decided to go for a walk. She guessed that not many of her neighbors were home at that time because no one sat out on their front porches. It was a beautiful day, and every front yard on her block was empty.
None of the other houses on the street were quite like Sammy's. Most of them were much newer and more modern. Her house had to have been one of the original homes in the area and was most likely a great deal more isolated until more recent times.
When Sammy was about a mile away from her house, the sky clouded over, and a chilly breeze kicked up. She shivered but didn't want to go back home just yet. Something felt off there. She'd begun to wish they hadn't saddled themselves with a thirty-year mortgage.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, Sammy realized it was her attempt to normalize what had happened in the house. If she told herself that it was perfect and that everything was great there, she didn't have to face what had happened.
Sammy fought the impulse to call Cameron. She didn't have his cell number, but she'd called the church he was ministering at and had gotten his secretary to give her Cameron's direct office line.
He wouldn't be any help, though. She wanted him to tell her that everything was okay and that she wasn't being used or stalked by dark things. Cameron was the last person to give her that reassurance though. She'd known it when he walked away the last time they'd seen each other.
She could call John. He'd stop whatever he was doing and talk her off the emotional cliff she felt herself approaching. Why was she suddenly so upset? Why was the thought of calling the one person who loved her more than life itself making her heart race faster?
He'd want her to get rid of the mirror. When she insisted that it wasn't necessary, he'd get that overly concerned look in her eyes. The look that used to bring her comfort, but now made her feel like a child. She didn't need him to worry about her. She had the mirror.
Sammy stopped and shook her head. That sounded crazy. She just needed to get home and be near it again. It wasn't that strange to be comforted by a favorite object.
The cool breeze at her back quickened her steps. As she approached the house, the vice around her chest started to relent. Her breathing slowed, and Sammy's heart rate returned to normal.
Once she stepped through the front door, Sammy stood in front of the mirror. People would've probably thought it was silly, but the reflection made her feel calm. It was a different view, and the way she looked in that mirror made her more confident. The shiny surface offered her a more complete version of herself. A better Sammy. All she had to do was reach out and touch it.
As she reached for the glass, the doorbell rang twice. Sammy jumped and pulled her attention away from the silvery world that beckoned her from the other side. Who could that be?
Sammy generally wouldn't answer the door for uninvited and unexpected guests. It wasn't safe.
Go ahead.
A voice in her head or behind her, Sammy wasn't sure, urged her to open the door. She clicked the deadbolt and slowly opened the door. For a moment, Sammy didn't recognize the man standing on the porch. After a moment, she realized who he was.
It was the man in the red truck who'd almost taken the mirror when it was out on the curb. Was he here to see if she still had the mirror? There was no way she'd let him take it.
"Ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with you." He said as he removed his red baseball cap and revealed a head full of curly brown hair.
Invite him in.
That sounded like a terrible idea, but if it's what the mirror wanted, then Sammy would acquiesce. "Come in. Would you like some tea?"
"Sure." The man answered as Sammy showed him to the living area.
He sat down on the sofa, and she went to the kitchen to pour two glasses of ice tea. "I hope iced is okay," Sammy called from the kitchen.
"That would be nice, ma'am."
She brought the glasses into the living room and handed him one. Sammy took a seat in the armchair and crossed her legs formally.
"How can I help you?" She asked and sipped her tea. "By the way, what is your name? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."
"I'm Hank Brisbon, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Well, Hank. I'm Samantha Hainsley." She said and watched him take a big gulp of his drink. "I saw you the other day when you came to look at the mirror."
"That's why I'm here, Samantha. I saw that you had the mirror hanging in the entryway." Hank said, and Sammy noted that a line of swe
at had formed on his forehead. "I came back the day after I left it on your curb, and I was worried that you'd hung it in the house. Or, that someone else had taken it. I wanted to see if I could track them down."
"Why?" Sammy asked. "I mean, I know it's a great piece, but that seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through when there are other mirrors out there."
"I didn't want to track it down because I wanted it," Hank said and coughed. "I wanted to find it so that I could warn whoever had it not to keep it in their house."
"You wanted to caution me about the mirror?" Sammy asked, but she knew why. She didn't care. It was her mirror, and there was no reason for her not to hang it in her home.
"I don't know any way to say this without it sounding crazy, so I'm just going to say it. When I picked up the mirror to look it over, I saw something in it." Hank said and started to rub his chest. "At first I thought it was someone on the sidewalk behind me or my mind playing tricks on me, but Samantha, there was something evil in that mirror."
"You realize how crazy that sounds, right?"
"I know, and I've never been the type to believe in things. But, there is something wrong with that mirror. You need to get rid of it." Hank said, and he began to cough again.
Sammy watched him turn bright red. He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. "Are you okay?"
"It's really hot in here," Hank said. "I need some air."
He stood up shakily, and Sammy went quickly to his side. The nurse in her couldn't just watch him struggle even if he was insulting her mirror. "Let me walk you out to the porch. We can sit out there."
Hank let her take his arm. She guided him to the entryway, but as Sammy reached out for the front door, she saw Hank frozen in front of the mirror. His face and shirt were drenched with sweat, and all of the color had drained from his face.
"My chest hurts," Hank said as he clutched his sternum.
He went to his knees, and Sammy wasn't able to stop him. She looked up at the mirror for a moment, and it appeared that her reflection smiled back at her. Sammy shook her head and turned her attention to Hank.
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