"You ran," comes from the mirror opposite, in a soft wounded voice; it wasn't either of the girls, this time, but Penelope.

Freya half-expected this kind of haunted mirrors bullshit, but even knowing it was coming, it still stung. She hadn't wanted to leave.

And wallowing, letting these things get to them wouldn't solve their problems. Jaw tight, Freya reaches out and sets a hand on Anna's shoulder.

"Get a move on. You know it's a trick." Freya glances back to keep an eye on the door, but somehow it's already gotten lost in the endless reflections.