The MirrorMasters

Chapter 4

When we reached Jenny's house, a police car waited in her driveway, its red and blue lights flashing. Kevin guided Jenny up to the door. I watched her, silent and fidgeting with my hands, as she hesitated to open it.

A moment later, a petite, curly-haired brunette answered the door. She had dressed for bed in a casual pajama set and light robe, but still appeared alert and awake. Worry lines creased her forehead and tightened the skin around her eyes, and she clutched a mug of herbal tea. Its familiar citrus scent, the scent I associated with the Taylor home, stung my nose.

"Jenny?" Katherine Taylor scanned the small group, her hands shaking until her gaze rested on her daughter. "Oh, sweetheart, you're all right! Where have you been?"

I leaned against the porch railing for support, shaky and lightheaded. My heart seemed to drop all the way from my chest down into my toes — whether from relief at Jenny's narrow escape or from dread of things to come, I couldn't say. We'd been lucky tonight — Jenny could have ended up with so much worse than a head injury. I exchanged glances with the others.

"What is it?" Katherine asked, worry lines deepening as her brows furrowed. Her hands shook harder, almost sloshing the tea out of her mug. "Here, come inside and tell me."

Kevin blanched, but spoke up when no one else did. "Jenny went into the forest tonight, Mrs. Taylor. We don't know why, but we found her unconscious out there."

Whatever reaction Mrs. Taylor had to this bombshell, I didn't hear it. The last to enter the house, I gave a backwards glance toward the cemetery. There, just outside the shadow of the nearby woods, stood a cloaked figure. He held one arm outstretched, as though supporting some invisible weight. When he spotted me, he

froze and stared. Just before the man pulled up his hood with his free hand and retreated into the woods, I glimpsed a familiar face in the moonlight.

A face I had seen earlier in my vision.
"Leah, honey, come in," Mrs. Taylor said.
I vaguely heard Mrs. Taylor's voice. My gaze still lingered on

the spot where the man vanished into the woods. Maybe he hadn't been there at all. Maybe I was just imagining things. I shook my head and turned back to face the sprawling brick Colonial. No. I'd definitely seen him, but now he'd disappeared, and it was too late to find out what he knew, if anything, about Jenny's misadventure tonight.

Kara pulled on my arm, prompting me to move out of the doorway and into the house. I blinked in the sudden brightness of the crystal chandelier. When my eyes adjusted, the foyer with its narrow table topped by a red vase of roses and walls adorned with Mrs. Taylor's artwork, came into focus. Snippets of conversation drifted out from the living room just to my left. Everyone else had already gone in. Before the door closed, I glanced back again. This time, there was no sign at all that the man had been there.

"Jenny, Oh, my heavens — you're as pale as a ghost! What happened to you out there?" Mrs. Taylor cried out, rushing forward to check her daughter for injuries before throwing her arms around Jenny. At first, Jenny stiffened but then allowed the hug.

"I don't know," Jenny murmured, her words slurred. "My head hurts." She stepped back and put a hand to her head again, wincing. A hiss of pain escaped her lips. When she dropped her hand, it came away red with fresh blood. She glanced at it, eyes wide and curious, then around the room and at the people as if everything were new to her.

Mrs. Taylor gasped at the sight of her daughter 's bloodstained hand. Shaking, she probed the head wound with deft fingers before steering Jenny to the powder room in the hallway

toward the kitchen. I heard the medicine cabinet door open, followed by the sounds of running water and Mrs. Taylor rummaging through the cabinet. When they returned, Jenny held a bandage to her head, and her hands were clean.