Chapter 12 - TWO ETHANS
Ethan opened the black mirror.
Not physically.
There was no handle.
He stood in front of it and said:
“You’re me.”
The other Ethan stared.
Then:
“You’re me too.”
The glass softened.
The duplicate stepped through.
Harris backed away in terror.
Two Ethans stood in 9B.
Same clothes no longer mattered.
One had dirt on his sleeve from the hallway.
The other had a red pressure mark around his wrist.
They faced each other.
Inside Ethan remembered:
father’s face,
college dorm,
first job,
mother’s funeral.
Outside Ethan remembered:
mother’s final words,
the exact song she hummed while cooking,
the smell of her hospital lotion,
the moment Ethan decided not to cry at the funeral.
Different halves.
Neither whole.
Then one Ethan said:
“What happened behind me?”
The other answered:
“I did.”
At 12:14 a.m., when the hand landed on his shoulder, the division completed.
One Ethan remained inside 9C.
The other appeared outside the door.
But a third fragment—only voice and touch—briefly manifested behind.
Not another full body.
A bridge between versions.
Then the hallway light went red.
Harris shouted:
“CLOSE YOUR EYES!”
Both Ethans did.
In darkness, they heard hundreds of voices.
Mother.
Father.
Harris.
Themselves.
Choose.
Choose.
Choose.
One voice whispered:
Only one gets to leave.
Ethan realized that was the trap.
The building wanted selection.
Original versus copy.
Real versus false.
Every choice erased one fragment and strengthened the surviving imitation.
So both Ethans said together:
“No.”
The voices stopped.
The hallway light turned white.
The two Ethans opened their eyes.
May you like
They were still separate.
But the black mirror had cracked.
