Girl Behind the Glass

1. The Purchase

Rain needles the zinc rooftops of Rue des Martyrs as Sarah pushes open the warped door of Marché des Ombres. Dust motes swirl like slow ghosts above crates of war medals and yellowed gramophones. In the farthest corner stands a tall cheval mirror framed in black walnut, its glass speckled with age. The vendor—an old woman whose left eye is milked by cataract—whispers, “Elle choisit son reflet, mademoiselle.” Sarah laughs, pays sixty euros, and hauls the mirror up five flights to her chambre de bonne.

2. First Night

At 3:07 a.m. the mirror wakes her. A soft click, like a tongue against teeth. The reflection is not hers. A girl in a crimson velvet dress, hair pinned in finger waves, stands in the same room—but the wallpaper behind her is cabbage roses on tea-stained silk, and the Eiffel Tower outside her window is half-built. The girl raises a hand; the mirror ripples as if the glass is water.

3. The Research Spiral

Sarah spends the next day at the Bibliothèque Nationale. In the 1925 microfilm she finds a photograph: Lilian Moreau, 22, disappeared from Montmartre after a costume ball. The dress in the photo matches the one in the mirror. The newspaper headline: “Jeune Fille Portée Disparue—Dernier Lieu Vu: Quai de la Tournelle.”

4. Second Night

Sarah sets an alarm for 3:05. At the stroke she holds her breath. The mirror exhales back—icy air smelling of river damp and violet perfume. Lilian’s lips move: “Viens.” Sarah’s fingertips touch the glass. It yields, cool as river stone. She steps through.

5. Paris, 1925

The room tilts. Gaslight flickers. Lilian’s body is suddenly hers—Sarah feels tight finger-waves against her scalp, the weight of beads on bare shoulders. Through the window the Seine glitters under construction scaffolds; the Moulin Rouge windmill spins like a slow propeller. A gramophone plays “La Vie en Rose” before it was ever written. Sarah/Lilian runs to the mirror on the opposite wall—her 2025 apartment stares back, empty, rain streaking the skylight.

6. The Ball

Masked figures swirl in champagne light. Sarah’s reflection in every polished surface is Lilian’s face. A man in a black domino mask whispers, “You’re not supposed to be here.” The clock above the ballroom strikes 3:07. Lilian’s heart—or is it Sarah’s?—hammers. She remembers the headline: last seen on Quai de la Tournelle. She is walking to the river.

7. The Bridge

Fog curls around Pont Neuf. Below, the Seine is black glass. Lilian lifts her dress to step onto the parapet. Sarah screams inside her skull; the sound comes out as a gull’s cry. For a moment both girls share the same pupils—past and future locked in a single iris. A hand—her own—pushes. Water rushes up in shards of moonlight.

8. The Return

Sarah gasps awake on her 2025 floorboards, soaked to the skin, violet perfume clinging to her hair. The mirror stands cracked in a perfect vertical line. On the other side, Lilian—now wearing Sarah’s pajamas—presses a palm to the glass. A droplet of Seine water rolls down the crack and lands on Sarah’s wrist. Both mouths shape the same silent word: “Remember.”

9. Epilogue

Every 3:07 a.m. the mirror hums. Sarah no longer sleeps. She has begun wearing red velvet, just in case. In the crack she sometimes sees the river, sometimes her own apartment, sometimes Lilian’s reflection growing older—growing into Sarah. The mirror never chose its reflection; it chose its next occupant.