The reflection blinked first.
Not me.
The thing wearing my face.
My breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound that echoed too loudly in the suffocating stillness of the chamber. My flashlight shook in my hand. I couldn't move, my boots rooted to the ground. I blinked, squeezing my eyes shut for a heartbeat, my heart drumming a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs.
When I opened my eyes, the reflection was mine again. Just me. Pale skin, wide eyes, the same terrified expression I felt mirrored on my own face.
It was gone.
Just me.
Pale skin.
Wide eyes.
Terror...
staring back at itself.
It had to be exhaustion.
It had to be.
But as I stared into the black, unmoving surface of the pool, the certainty that had anchored my life—the belief that the world was composed of observable, lo
