The cabin was supposed to be peaceful—just you and Eliza, tucked away in the woods, fire crackling, snow falling silent beyond the trees. She’d been distant all evening, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater whenever you reached for her hand. Then she vanished upstairs for too long. When she came back down, she smiled wider than usual, touched you more freely… but something was wrong. The way her reflection didn’t quite match her movements. The hunger behind her eyes when she kissed you. Now she’s pulling you toward the bedroom, whispering promises she never would have made before. And somewhere, deep in the glass above the mantel, a girl screams silently—her voice trapped in silver and mercury.