Chapter 27: The Mirror's Reflection

The moment the woman set the tray of food down, time seemed to freeze. Gray's heart stopped, her breath caught in her chest. She stared at the woman in front of her, her eyes wide with disbelief, as if she were looking at a ghost, a memory she could never forget. The world around her faded into a blur, her senses consumed by the overwhelming presence of someone who looked exactly like her mother.

Louise, who had been equally taken aback, tried to mask her shock, but the reality of the situation hit her too. She had known Gray for years—knew the quiet storm that brewed beneath her composed exterior, the pain she rarely spoke of, the scars that remained from the loss of her mother. Louise could see it now, the haunting expression on Gray's face, the way her hands shook ever so slightly as she gripped the table, and the way her body stiffened as if frozen in place.

The woman, noticing their reaction, furrowed her brows. "Is everything alright?" Her voice was soft, but there was an underlying concern. "You two look like you've seen a ghost."

Gray couldn't speak. She was trapped in the strange sensation of seeing the impossible, like a dream so vivid that it felt as though her very soul had been yanked from her body and thrown into a parallel reality. The woman before her had the same soft, kind gaze Gray remembered from childhood, the same gentle smile that had once been so familiar, so dear to her. Her hair, the same length, the same dark color. It was her mother. It had to be my mother.

But it couldn't be. It wasn't her mother. The woman before her was too alive, too real. And she has different color of eyes than her mother. Gray's mother had been gone for so long, lost to the winds of time and the cruel fate that had torn her from Gray's life. Gray had spent years burying the pain, locking away the memories, learning to live with the absence. And yet, here was this woman—this stranger—who was the perfect mirror image of the one person she'd ever truly wanted to see again.

The silence in the air was suffocating. Gray couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She couldn't even blink as her gaze remained locked on the woman's face. It felt like the very fabric of reality had bent and twisted, and in the center of it all stood Gray—paralyzed, trapped in an impossible moment where everything she knew was being questioned.

Louise, noticing Gray's catatonic state, nudged her friend with her shoulder. "Gray…" she whispered gently, trying to break through the stillness. But there was no response. Gray's eyes remained wide, unblinking, as if she had become a mere spectator in her own body.

"Gray," Louise tried again, this time more urgently, her voice carrying a note of concern. "Gray, talk to me."

Still, no words came. Gray's lips trembled, her mind a storm of confusion and emotions that she couldn't sort through. She felt as if she were being ripped apart from the inside out. The woman's face... it was too much. Too real. Too much like her mother that it made her heart ache in ways she hadn't felt in years.

The woman, sensing that her question had gone unanswered, turned to look at the other side of the restaurant. She seemed a little unsure, perhaps uncomfortable with the attention. "Is something wrong?" she asked, a little more hesitantly now. "You two seem... surprised."

Louise, growing more and more concerned, stood up and gently pulled Gray's arm, trying to bring her back to the present. "I'm so sorry, really," Louise said, addressing the woman. "My friend… she's just very overwhelmed." She smiled awkwardly, but there was no mistaking the worry in her eyes. "It's… it's nothing serious. Just a misunderstanding. But you do look a lot like someone very dear to her." Louise's voice faltered, not quite knowing how to explain the weight of the situation.

The woman's brow furrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? Who do I resemble?"

Louise hesitated, her words hanging in the air like they were wrapped in a heavy fog. "Someone she lost a long time ago," she said softly, trying to keep her answer vague. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. She knew how important this was to Gray. "Someone she misses very much." 

Gray's body remained stiff, unmoving, as Louise gently guided her towards the exit. She walked slowly, as if she were a shell of herself, each step more difficult than the last. Her mind was reeling, and yet she couldn't grasp any of the thoughts swirling inside her. What was she supposed to feel? What was she supposed to do? She had just witnessed an impossible moment, and it was too much for her to process all at once.

The woman's voice faded behind them as they stepped outside, and the cool mountain air hit Gray's face, though it did little to shake her from the overwhelming stupor she was trapped in.

"I'm so sorry about that," Louise said once they had stepped out onto the quiet street. "I had no idea she'd look so much like her. Gray, are you okay?"

Gray's eyes were glassy, distant, and she didn't respond immediately. She had to swallow several times before she could form words. "How can this be happening?" Her voice was strained, raw, as if the words were fighting to escape from somewhere deep within her. "How… how could she be here? How could she look like her? Like her?"

Louise gently touched Gray's arm, a quiet comfort in her touch. "I don't know, Gray," she said softly. "I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. All I know is that this is real… and you're real. Whatever you're feeling, it's valid. Just… just breathe, okay?"

But Gray couldn't breathe. She couldn't find the air to fill her lungs. She felt as though she were suffocating under the weight of it all. Her chest was tight, and every breath she took was jagged and uneven. Was it real? Could it be?

"I don't know how to feel anymore, Louise," Gray murmured, her voice cracking. "I've spent my whole life wanting to see her again… wishing for it, hoping that one day I could hold her again, tell her how much I loved her, that I've never stopped thinking about her." Her voice broke, and she choked on the words as tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.

She paused, her breath ragged as she struggled to put her emotions into words. "I thought it was just wishful thinking, you know? That I would never see her again. That I would just have to live with the memory of her. But now… now I see her—this woman who is a perfect mirror image of her, and I'm…" She swallowed, as if choking on the pain. "I'm lost. I'm not sure what to feel, Louise. I don't know if I'm supposed to be happy or angry. If I'm supposed to accept it or… or just pretend it's not real." 

Louise remained silent, simply offering her a supportive presence. She didn't have the answers that Gray sought—none of them did. 

"I've spent so long wishing for this," Gray continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "And now that it's right in front of me, it's like I'm being punished. Like the world is mocking me. Like fate is toying with me, telling me that I can never have what I truly want. What if this woman is nothing but a cruel reminder of something I can never have back? What if—" She broke off, her breath coming in heavy, ragged sobs.

"Gray…" Louise said softly, pulling her into a tight hug. "It's okay to feel lost. It's okay to be confused. You don't have to have the answers right now." 

But Gray didn't feel okay. She felt like her world had been shattered in the span of a few minutes, and there was no one who could pick up the pieces. She wanted to scream, to yell at the world for doing this to her—for putting her through this twisted game. But instead, she just stood there, trembling, unsure of what to feel, unsure of what to believe.

"I thought I was ready," she whispered. "But I'm not ready, Louise. I don't know if I'll ever be ready." 

And in that moment, Gray knew that she was far from ready to face whatever fate had in store for her. But what was she supposed to do? What could she do, when all she had left were questions and an aching heart that refused to heal?

What have I done to experience this? To deserve this. God, please take this pain away.

That night, sleep didn't come easy for both of them. And Gray's little sleep was plagued by her usual nightmare.