In shadow and light: waltz of souls

— Aya, someone's watching us, — Leticia said, seeing the silhouette behind the door reflected in the mirror.

— Yes, I see it, — Leticia added a moment later.

For an instant, Leticia held her breath, eyes narrowed as she tried to identify the figure in the mirror. But soon, she calmed; she recognized the silhouette.

Turning slowly, Leticia saw Clara—her younger sister—peeking in shyly from the doorway. The girl clutched the hem of her dress, her large, light-brown eyes with a faint golden tint filled with nervous concern. Curly chestnut hair fell over her shoulders, and a soft blush made her face look even more childlike and innocent.

Clara seemed fragile, yet her posture betrayed a watchfulness, like a small animal ready to bolt at any second. Her hands kept tugging at the simple cotton skirt she wore, her lips pressed together as though unsure whether she should speak.

— Clara? — Leticia asked gently.

Clara flinched, hiding behind the door. Then, hesitantly, she stepped forward, rocking a little on her feet. She seemed timid, but her curiosity clearly outweighed her fear.

— I…I just wanted to check on you, — she said quietly, lowering her gaze. — You…you were talking to yourself."

Leticia frowned. Of course, from the outside, it must have looked odd. She took a slow, deep breath, then perched on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Clara to come closer.

— I'm all right, I was just…trying to figure something out, — Leticia said, choosing her words carefully. — You were worried about me?"

Clara nodded.

— Mom said you weren't feeling well, — her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with genuine concern. — But I heard you talking…to the mirror."

A chill ran down Leticia's spine. How much did Clara see?

— What did you see? — she asked, letting her gaze flick toward the mirror.

Clara hesitated, glancing at their reflections. She stayed silent for several seconds, then frowned.

— There's…only you, — she whispered.

Leticia studied the mirror intently. She could still see Aya's face. Her heart thudded in her chest.

— Are you sure? — she asked softly.

Clara nodded.

— Who else would be there? — she asked, sincerity and confusion in her voice.

Leticia paused, thinking. Was Aya's presence invisible to everyone else? Or was Clara simply unaware of what to look for?

— Could you describe what you see? How do I look? — Leticia asked, trying to keep her tone even. Still, worry flickered in her eyes.

Clara looked at her, then back at the mirror, tilting her head as if considering.

— Well…you look the same as always, — she began tentatively. — Your hair is long and dark. Your eyes…they seem a bit brighter than usual, like they're shining. And… — Clara squinted slightly, — you look…tired. Like you haven't slept for days.

Leticia swallowed hard, her gaze darting again to the mirror. She saw Aya there, not herself.

— Thank you, Clara, — she said softly, doing her best to sound satisfied with the answer. — Thank you for worrying about me.

Clara offered a small smile, tilting her head so that her curls bounced.

— You're strange sometimes, big sister, — she said with a faint laugh—no judgment in her voice, only innocent sincerity and fondness.

Leticia returned her smile, but a vague unease lingered inside her. She needed to find out the truth.

But first, she had to make sure she truly wasn't losing her mind.

Clara yawned and stretched, then gave Leticia a doubtful look.

— I'm going to bed, — she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. — If anything happens, you'll call me, right?

Leticia nodded, watching as Clara headed for the door. The girl glanced back over her shoulder once more before stepping out, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Now Leticia was alone again. She turned her attention back to the mirror, where Aya stood in place of her reflection.

— Your sister's sweet, — Aya remarked unexpectedly.

— Yes, — Leticia agreed in a low voice. — She's too kind. Sometimes I worry this world is too cruel for someone like her.

— She was looking at you with genuine concern, — Aya said thoughtfully. — What's it like…to have a family?

Leticia frowned slightly.

— I'm not sure," she admitted. — It's…strange. Sometimes it feels comforting; other times, it's irritating. But I wouldn't want to lose her.

Aya fell silent, then exhaled softly.

— I…miss having my own body.

Leticia studied her reflection in the mirror.

— You feel trapped?

— Yes, — Aya answered with a sad smile. — I remember how I used to move, how my body felt heavy—or light—depending on what I did. Now I'm just…a voice in your head. A reflection in glass.

Leticia cast another glance at the mirror. Aya looked dejected.

— If it were possible, — Leticia said quietly, — I'd lend you mine—

She didn't get to finish. Suddenly, her body seized up, and darkness flickered at the edges of her vision.