Ruby didn't open the phone until morning.
She left it on the table, wrapped in a dishcloth and weighed down with an empty bowl, as if the thing could be restrained by the mere weight of household objects. Every time the phone's screen lit up, Ruby immediately turned it facedown. Every time she heard a faint vibration, she held her breath.
But the phone didn't ring again.
What rang was Jordan's alarm.
Five-thirty. Jordan woke slowly, groped toward the side of the bed, then sat up and rubbed his face. Ruby had been awake for two hours already.
“You didn't sleep?” Jordan asked.
Ruby shook her head.
Mikhayla was still asleep in the next room. Their house was filled with a thin silence—the kind that came before a small child woke up and asked for water, milk, or something that couldn't be explained in words.
Jordan followed Ruby's gaze to the dining table.
“That phone?”
“Don't turn it on.”
“Ruby.”
“I'm serious.”
Jordan sighed. He didn't touch the phone right away. Maybe it was because of the look on Ruby's face. Maybe he also hadn't fully convinced himself that the previous night had been nothing more than a nightmare.
“What did you see?”
Ruby wanted to answer honestly. A moving photo. A time that came before reality. A shadow under the bed. Handwriting telling her not to use someone else's memories to forget her own life.
But it all sounded like a story someone had made up after not getting enough sleep.
“I saw a new photo,” she said at last. “A photo of Mikhayla's room.”
“When was it taken?”
“A few minutes before the photo appeared.”
Jordan stared at her for a long moment. “Maybe it was saved automatically.”
“From where?”
“I don't know.”
“And why were you pointing under the bed in that photo?”
Jordan fell silent.
Ruby picked up the printed photo they'd found the night before. The girl in the blue dress still had her back to the camera in the mirror's reflection. She looked no bigger than Ruby's palm, but her presence made the room feel cramped.
Jordan turned the photo over. The writing on the back was still the same.
“Is this your mother's handwriting?”
“No.”
“Yours?”
Ruby studied the letters. Something about the slant of each word felt familiar, but she couldn't say why.
“No,” she repeated.
Mikhayla began to cry from the other room.
Ruby stood at once. She moved so quickly that the chair behind her nearly toppled over. She caught Mikhayla's small body before the child could climb down from the bed.
“Mom's here.”
Mikhayla wrapped her arms around Ruby's neck. “Scared.”
“Scared of what?”
The child pointed at the small mirror on the wall.
Ruby turned.
Her reflection stood there: tangled hair, puffy eyes, and Mikhayla in her arms.
Behind them, the mirror reflected only the wall.
There was no girl in the blue dress.
Ruby let out the breath she'd been holding. She almost smiled when Mikhayla rested her face against her shoulder.
Then Ruby's reflection raised one finger to its lips.
Shh.
Ruby froze.
The movement lasted only a fraction of a second. After that, her reflection was exactly the same as her real self.
Jordan entered the room.
“What happened?”
Ruby hugged Mikhayla tighter. “She pointed at the mirror.”
Jordan looked at it. “There's nothing there.”
“I know.”
“Ruby…”
“I know,” Ruby repeated, more softly this time. “But I saw something.”
Jordan came closer and touched her shoulder. “We'll take the phone to a repair shop. Maybe the screen is broken, or there's an app that—”
The old phone on the dining table vibrated.
Once.
Then twice.
Ruby closed her eyes.
She knew, without checking, that a new photo had appeared.
Jordan went to get it. Ruby tried to stop him, but she was too late. Jordan picked up the phone, and the screen lit up in his hand.
A photo filled the screen.
A photo of Ruby standing in front of the mirror with Mikhayla in her arms. In the reflection, the girl in the blue dress stood directly behind her. This time, the girl's face was visible in profile.
It was Ruby's face.
Jordan dropped the phone.
It hit the floor, but the screen didn't crack. The photo inside it remained lit. The girl in the blue dress slowly turned her head, as if the sound of the falling object had reached her from a very distant place.
Mikhayla began crying harder.
Ruby carried the child out of the room. She no longer cared whether Jordan believed her or not. She knew only one thing: something inside the photo was learning to imitate her.
In the living room, she opened the closet and took out Mikhayla's small bag.
“We're going to Mireya's,” she said.
Jordan stared at her. “Now?”
“Now.”
“Ruby, I have to go to work.”
“Then go.”
The tone made Jordan fall silent.
Ruby packed a sippy cup, diapers, a change of clothes, and a stuffed rabbit into the bag. Her hands were still trembling, but every item she put away made her thoughts a little clearer.
She didn't know what the photo gallery wanted.
She didn't know who the girl in the reflection was.
But she knew Mikhayla couldn't be near it.
Jordan stood beside the table. “I'm coming with you.”
Ruby looked up.
“I don't know what's happening,” Jordan continued. “But I'm not going to let you face it alone.”
The words were simple. They didn't erase Ruby's fear, but they made her chest feel a little less tight.
They left the house a few minutes later. The morning air was still cold. The streets weren't busy yet. Ruby carried Mikhayla while Jordan carried the bag and the old phone, wrapped in his jacket.
Before closing the door, Ruby looked back inside the house.
The small mirror in Mikhayla's room was visible from the hallway.
On its surface, the reflection of their home looked empty.
But on the floor, directly in front of the mirror, was a pair of wet footprints.
The footprints led out of the room.
Ruby grabbed Jordan's hand.
“Don't look back,” she said.
Jordan didn't ask why.
They walked toward the car.
In Jordan's jacket pocket, the old phone vibrated again.
This time, a message appeared without a photo.
You can bring anyone you want.
I still know the way home.
Ruby read the message on the open screen.
Below the words, a small image appeared: a photo of Mireya's house, taken from across the street.
The timestamp on the photo was five minutes in the future.
Ruby raised her head.
At the end of the street, a girl in a blue dress stood beneath a tree.
When a car passed and blocked their view, the girl disappeared.
But Ruby's voice came from the phone in Jordan's hand.
“Don't take me to Mireya.”
Ruby stared at the screen.
The voice whispered again.
“She'll be the first one I take.”