3:59 A.M.
SHE GLANCES UP AT THE SUN AS SHE WALKS ACROSS the track. Almost three full hours before sunset—plenty of time to get home before dark.
A pack of boys in mismatched red-and-white shorts and loose-fitting T-shirts rounds the upper turn. She steps onto the inner field and pauses next to a pile of gym bags.
The boys blow past her at a full sprint. Except one. From the back of the pack, he slows his pace, running straight up and down with a high kick to the knee. Cool and calm, with no display of fatigue or strain, Nick stops inches from her.
“Hey, Jo.”
She smiles. “Nick.”
“What are you doing here?”
She takes a step toward him. “You said you had something for me. Remember?”
“Oh. Right,” he says between deep breaths. “I just didn’t think you’d want it right now.”
“I do,” Jo says. “Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
She follows Nick across the field to a pile of backpacks and jackets. He bends down, unzips the front pouch of his bag, and removes something wrapped in blue tissue paper. “I think this belongs to you.” He puts the packet in her hand.
She trembles as she slowly peels away the layers of tissue. “Oh, Nick!” She gasps.
It’s a necklace on a gold chain. Two entwined hearts.
“Yeah,” he says, a black curl flopping over his eye. “I thought you’d want it.”
She reaches up and brushes the hair from his face, letting her hand linger against his cheek. He doesn’t move. She trails her hand down his chest and she can feel his heart pounding. She doesn’t care that he’s sweaty. She doesn’t care that he smells like the inside of the boys’ locker room. She presses her body into his and tilts her head up toward him. He looks down at her with those piercing brown eyes as she stands on tiptoe, aching for his lips. . . .
Josie let out a moan as her eyes fluttered open. Instead of Nick’s face just inches from her own, all she saw was darkness. The bluish light of the moon streamed in through her window, illuminating a patch of floor and bureau, including a loose photo of her and Nick. It was taken just a few weeks ago.
When Nick was already cheating on her.
The image of Madison kissing Nick on the track flooded Josie’s mind. Between the explosion in her mom’s lab and the mystery of the mirror, Josie had almost managed to forget her most recent humiliation.
Almost.
Ugh. Tomorrow was going to be a disaster at school. The embarrassment of getting caught spying on them was salt in the wound of their betrayal. Everyone at school would be talking about it. How was she going to face the shame?
Josie fought the panic welling up inside her. She just needed to get some sleep. Things would seem better in the morning. She rolled on her side, determined to put all thoughts of Nick and Madison out of her mind, and looked at the clock just before she shut her eyes.
4:00 a.m.
7:05 A.M.
“JOSEPHINE, ARE YOU GETTING UP TODAY?”
Josie stared at her bedroom ceiling. Getting up for what? What was the point?
So much for feeling better in the morning.
“Did you hear me?” Her mom cracked the bedroom door. There was a pause where her mom must have registered that Josie was still, in fact, in bed, then Josie felt a whoosh of air as her mom threw the door open. “You’re not even awake yet?”
Silence. Was she going to ask what was wrong? Josie wasn’t sure if she was hoping for it or dreading it.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“No,” Josie croaked.
There was the sound of footsteps across the hardwood floor, stopping short of Josie’s bed. “I’m sorry.” Her mom paused. “You should stay home.”
“Okay.” Maybe she could just stay in bed forever and never go back to Bowie Prep? That seemed like the best-case scenario.
“I’ll call and check in on you from the lab. Try to get some rest.”
Yeah. Rest.
3:59 P.M.
She can’t sleep.
She sits up in bed, pushes her sleep mask to her forehead, and squints against the light. She never has insomnia. Always sleeps like the dead. But she’s been tossing and turning for hours. Time to give up.
She throws the blue floral comforter back and swings her legs over the bed. The carpet is soft and lush as she walks across the room to the bookcase. She wiggles her toes in it as she tries to decide on a book.
She chooses a volume of Keats. A gift from her mom. She’s never read it but it seems like it would fit her romantic mood. She reaches for the necklace that hangs just beneath her throat and fingers the delicately woven gold hearts. Nick and Jo. Intertwined forev—
The word forever freezes on her tongue. She stares at the antique mirror in the corner of her room. It perfectly reflects her bed.
But instead of an empty bed and rumpled comforter, sound asleep in her bed is a girl.
She glances back at her bed. It’s empty. But when she returns to the mirror, she can clearly see the image of someone asleep in the bed. Her bed. She takes a step closer to the mirror just as the girl rolls over. She can see the face clearly now. It’s not just a girl.
It’s her. Identical.
But that’s impossible.
She’s across the room in a second, her face inches from the mirror. That room, that girl. They look so real. Like the glass from the mirror has evaporated away to nothing. She reaches out her hand expecting to feel the cold, smooth surface of the mirror, but instead the space feels dense, thick, and spongy like gelatin. Her fingertips permeate the gooey nothingness beyond the frame of the mirror, warping the reflection of the girl asleep.
Is it really a reflection? What’s happening?
The sleeping girl sits up.
Josie’s eyes flew open. She sat straight up in bed and stared at the mirror. For a split second, so fast she wasn’t sure it was real or just a lingering image from her dream, Josie thought she saw someone in the
