In an instant, Josie realized what had happened. Jo had conned her. She’d conveniently left out several details about her life—a life that kind of sucked, apparently—and now that she was in Josie’s life, she had no intention of coming back.
Panic. Josie reached up as far as she could, trying to find an edge, something she could wedge her fingers between and maybe force the mirror off the wall. She submerged herself in the portal, and tried to push the back side of the frame away. But it wouldn’t budge. Jo must have secured the mirror with something, sandwiching it tight against the concrete.
The mirror began to ripple again and Josie pulled her body out of the portal. As her own reflection rematerialized, cold reality slapped her in the face.
Josie was trapped.
TWENTY-FIVE
6:55 A.M.
JOSIE DIDN’T REALIZE SHE’D FALLEN ASLEEP until a knock at the door woke her up.
“Are you awake?”
Josie rolled over in bed. Her eyes were closed, but it was still dark in her room.
She stretched her arms over her head. It had all been a dream—a horrible, wretched nightmare. She was at home in her bed and her mom was waking her up so she wouldn’t be late for school. Another normal day.
Thank God.
“Miss Josephine, you’re going to be late.”
Miss Josephine? Josie’s eyes flew open and she realized she was wearing a sleep mask. Jo’s sleep mask.
She was still in the nightmare.
“Miss Josephine?” Teresa cracked the bedroom door. There was a pause, then she heard Teresa take a sharp breath. “Miss Josephine, your arms. Are you okay? What happened? If your father finds—” Panic rose in her voice as each thought crossed her mind.
Josie wiggled her arms beneath the covers so Teresa couldn’t see the full extent of her wounds. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m not going to school.”
“But what shall I tell your father?”
Josie rolled over, turning her back on Teresa. “Just tell him I’m sick.” She didn’t care what Teresa thought; there was no way in hell she was going to school today. She needed to figure out a way home.
“Oh.” Teresa lingered at the door for a moment, then Josie heard her slowly close it. “Of course, Miss Josephine.”
Josie rolled onto her back and stared around Jo’s room.
Your room.
Josie shook her head, forcing the thought from her mind. She was not going to be stuck here. She’d figure out a way home. Somehow.
What if she couldn’t? She hadn’t told anyone back home about Jo and the mirror. So far, she’d been able to snowjob everyone in Jo’s world into believing that she was their daughter, classmate, whatever. Wouldn’t Jo be able to do the same thing in Josie’s world? Her mom had been so weird lately, so distant and distracted by work; would she even notice there was something different about her daughter? Would anyone?
Maybe her dad. Then again, he’d been so wrapped up in the divorce, he might attribute his daughter’s weirdness to that.
There was no one else. No one who’d notice. And no one who’d miss her even if they did.
Hell, maybe people would like Jo better.
Josie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She paced the room aimlessly, her mind racing. Nick had made it clear that Jo had been after him for quite some time, to no effect. But there was another Nick. Maybe Jo would want to try with him?
And if she succeeded, she’d never want to go home.
What if Josie was stuck here? Other than Jo’s father, who seemed to care for her in a kind of jovial, fatherly way, what was here for her? Josie slumped down in Jo’s leather desk chair. For the first time, she prayed Madison and Nick’s romance was solid and long-lasting. The only way Josie was getting home was if Jo wanted to switch back.
She sat there for what felt like hours, gently swinging back and forth in Jo’s swivel chair. What was she going to do?
After a while, Josie realized her eyes had rested on an object on Jo’s bookshelf. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at it, but suddenly, recognition dawned.
She was staring at her vase. The wine-bottle vase covered in magazine squares that she’d made in fifth-grade art class.
Josie sprang to her feet and snatched the vase off the shelf. She knew instantly that it was hers. So that’s what happened to it. Her vase and Jo’s vase had switched.
But how?
Josie let the vase fall back onto the shelf with a clunk. It hadn’t come through the mirror with her—of that she was pretty sure. She’d have noticed a flying inanimate object. And yet here it was, as real and solid as anything else around her, which meant the connection between their worlds extended beyond the physical confines of the mirror.
And if the vases could move back and forth between the worlds without the portal, maybe she could too?
A list of things that had randomly gone missing flooded Josie’s brain. Her pink tweed Converse, Mr. Fugly Bear. Things she’d looked for and couldn’t find over the last week, since the mirror landed in her bedroom.
Were they here? In this house?
Josie took a deep breath. There was only one way to find out.