A Friday the 13th
Story #7
Some mirrors don’t
just reflect the world.
They trap souls.
And once you look
in... something else might be looking back.
Before she could open the door, Jax stood
there looking as mad as a wet hen…or a rooster in this case.
“Are you going to have me arrested?” she
asked, climbing out of the car. She’d never been in jail before, but
there was always a first time for everything—or so they say.
“It all depends on why you felt it necessary to sneak your way into my ancestral home,” Jax asked, the tension in his neck and shoulders visible.
“The need to know, I suppose,” she answered, slowly releasing the breath she drew in.
“To know what exactly?” Jax asked in an uncertain tone.
“How and why that young girl had to die,” she said, drawing her brows together in thought.
“It all depends on why you felt it necessary to sneak your way into my ancestral home,” Jax asked, the tension in his neck and shoulders visible.
“The need to know, I suppose,” she answered, slowly releasing the breath she drew in.
“To know what exactly?” Jax asked in an uncertain tone.
“How and why that young girl had to die,” she said, drawing her brows together in thought.
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