“It’s okay,” Lane shouted back, “What you thought was someone banging on the outside of your window is actually coming from the other side of your dresser mirror.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The girl with the wild red hair cried.
Luna gave Jordan a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leaned in; “Watch this…”
Lane began scribbling something onto the surface of the mirror—runes, glyphs, some kind of language Jordan had never seen before. As he wrote the inscription, he used one hand to write and the other hand to steady himself as the room continued to quake. Flipping to another page in his notebook, Lane recited something Jordan couldn’t quite hear. She did hear voices. Not just Lane’s, but other voices, languages she could neither recognize or comprehend.
When he’d finished, Lane turned to Jordan, “Patrick, your granddaughter is here and wants to help you find what was lost. Can you help us? Show us what you’re looking for?”
As the surface of the mirror continued to frost over, gradually something began to take shape. It was as if an invisible finger were writing inside the glass. Jordan was horrified and morbidly curious. She couldn’t look away as the shape of a watch was drawn into the frost covered mirror. She recognized it immediately.
Lane turned from the mirror to Jordan, “Did your grandfather leave a watch or bracelet, maybe?” Jordan reflexively glanced down. Lane noticed Jordan was covering the small golden watch on her wrist with her right hand. He smiled. The missing piece had been found. Now for the tricky part.
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