Lyra stood in front of her mirror, watching herself not blink
The mirror had been watching her for weeks — she knew that now. It wasn't just glass. It was a lens. A listener. A recorder.
And it was time to speak back.
The Plan
Maris sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through the book. "You're sure this will work?"
Lyra nodded. "If the school believes I'm unraveling in the wrong direction, it'll stop watching the right one."
Maris frowned. "You're going to lie to a mirror."
Lyra smiled faintly. "No. I'm going to perform."
The First Memory
She began with something small.
She stood in front of the mirror and whispered a memory that wasn't hers.
> "I saw Madame Calyx in the Reflection Pool. She told me to burn the book."
The mirror shimmered.
The koi pond outside rippled.
Maris watched from the doorway. "It believed you."
Lyra's voice was steady. "It wanted to."
The Second Memory
She planted another the next night.
> "The fifth tower is a trap. It feeds on stitched ones. I'm leaving it alone."
The mirror pulsed.
The hallway outside dimmed.
Professor Umbra passed by without pausing.
Maris whispered, "You're redirecting the school."
Lyra nodded. "I'm giving it a story it wants to hear."
The Third Memory
This one was harder.
> "I'm afraid. I want to be reassigned. I don't want to remember."
The mirror cracked slightly.
The koi pond turned gray.
Headmistress Virelle watched from her archive.
She smiled.
The Side Effect
But something was wrong.
Lyra began to forget things.
She couldn't remember what day it was. She forgot the name of her first teacher. She called Maris "Nova" once.
Maris grabbed her shoulders. "You're stitching too deep."
Lyra blinked. "I'm not sure which memories are mine anymore."
Maris whispered, "Then stop before you become the lie."
The Book Again
The book pulsed violently.
New ink appeared:
> "False threads still bind. Be careful what you weave."
Lyra stared at the page. "It's warning me."
Maris nodded. "Because you're becoming the story."
The Mirror's Response
That night, the mirror spoke back.
Not in words — in reflection.
It showed Lyra standing in the fifth tower.
Then it showed her burning the book.
Then it showed her face — stitched with someone else's smile.
She stepped back.
The mirror whispered: "Which version are you now?"