The Breaking of the Veil
Blakely tossed and turned in her bed, trying to find a position that would allow her some semblance of rest. The voices in her head, a constant whispering cacophony, had grown louder since the day she discovered her ability to understand the numeric language of those affected by the phantom mirrors. She had hoped that the soothing balm of sleep would silence them, but it seemed an impossible dream.
She pressed her pillow over her ears, as if that could somehow block out the voices. But they weren't coming from outside. They were inside her head, a relentless stream of murmurs that made it hard to think, let alone sleep.