In the old bathroom, light flickers above like a hesitant breath, defying reason and revealing shadows that dance rather than rest.

There is a mirror, aged and cracked, stationed against the wall. It whispers tufts of sentences, half-formed, lingering like smoke rings in a dimly lit bar. Daniel approaches it, compelled by an unseen pull, and hears the echo of something familiar yet undeniably astray.

He remembers her laugh - a sound that now carries a dirtied timbre, woven with notes of fury and laughter he failed to recognize. The reflections do not hold her face, yet it skims the surface like a ghostly imprint, living just beyond the reach of his touch.

"Where are you?" he whispers, a question meant for a shadow, for the smooth, hard surface before him that promises nothing tangible.

The mirror shows only itself, mocking him with silent certainty. But he'll return, drawn by promises unsaid, unwritten, and the mirror’s deceitful serenade.

Continue the journey through the echoes...