Reflection Of Her

Chapter 2 — The Antique Mirage

Rain lashed against the cracked windowpane of Timeless Echoes, the tiny antique shop that had once been Selene’s pride. Now it looked like a museum of broken dreams — and she was its last surviving relic.

Boxes of unsold trinkets lined the counter, their labels fading. The once-polished brass sign above the door had lost its shine. The old gramophone in the corner crackled softly, playing a haunting tune that made the emptiness feel alive.

Selene paced the floor, her fingers tugging through her dark, wavy hair. She hadn’t slept properly in days — not since the scandal broke.

“Fake,” she muttered under her breath, reading the word in the newspaper headline for the hundredth time.

“Local antique dealer sells counterfeit Ming vase for half a million.”

Her name wasn’t printed, but everyone in the trade knew.

Everyone always knew.

Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number.

She almost ignored it — she’d already dealt with angry buyers, investigators, and so-called “friends” who wanted gossip. But something made her swipe “accept.”

“Selene Ward?” The voice was deep, clipped — Luca’s voice.

Her pulse stumbled.

“What do you want?” she snapped.

“I just heard about the vase. Listen, I didn’t—”

“Save it,” she cut him off. “You vanished when everything went wrong. I should’ve known you’d crawl back when it’s too late.”

“I didn’t vanish,” he said quietly. “I was trying to fix it. That buyer wasn’t who he said he was. There’s more to this—”

The line went dead.

Selene threw her phone onto the counter and pressed her palms against her face, groaning. She had trusted Luca once — not just with her business, but with her heart. And when things fell apart, he disappeared like a coward, leaving her to clean the mess.

Now, she was left with debt collectors, suspicion, and a*****e that barely had customers.

And still, she refused to close it. Timeless Echoes was her life’s work — the only proof she could survive without anyone’s help.

“Stubborn,” her best friend Mira always called her. “You’d rather drown on your own terms than ask for a life raft.”

Selene smiled bitterly. “Maybe.”

The bell over the door jingled. A customer — a rare sight these days.

She straightened, pushing her hair back and forcing a smile.

It was an older woman, elegant but tired-looking, clutching a small velvet box.

“Are you still buying?” the woman asked softly. “I need to sell something… important.”

Selene nodded. “Let’s see it.”

The woman opened the box, revealing a delicate silver locket — tarnished with age but beautifully crafted.

“It was my mother’s,” the woman said. “I need the money, but I’d like it to go to someone who’ll cherish it.”

Selene studied the piece, her experienced eye catching the intricate etching on the inside: A. W. — 1993.

Her breath caught for a second — those were her initials.

Strange coincidence.

“It’s lovely,” she said, recovering quickly. “I can offer—”

A sudden shout from outside interrupted her.

A car had swerved in the rain and splashed a wave of muddy water across the front window. Selene sighed, rubbing her temples. “Of course,” she muttered. “Because the universe never misses a chance.”

When she turned back, the woman was gone.

The velvet box sat on the counter, the locket still inside.

Selene blinked. “What the—”

She rushed outside, but the street was empty — rain pouring, lights flickering, no sign of the woman anywhere.

She looked down at the locket again, cold against her palm. Her initials, carved decades ago, staring back at her like a message.

Something about it felt wrong — or maybe right.

Later that night, after closing up, she sat at her desk, turning the locket over and over under the yellow lamplight. On impulse, she pressed the clasp open again — and saw a faint photograph inside. Two infants wrapped in white blankets. Twins.

Her heart stopped.

A knock sounded on her shop door, sharp and unexpected.

When she looked up, a woman stood outside — soaked from the rain, hesitant but familiar.

For a second, Selene thought she was looking into a mirror.

The woman’s voice trembled through the glass.

“Are you… Selene Ward?”

Selene’s pulse thundered.

“Yes. Who are you?”

The woman smiled faintly, tears glimmering in her eyes.

“My name is Ariana.”

And with that, two worlds that had been drifting apart for decades finally collided.