Amara's mind raced. She backed away from the mirror, staring at the shadows that pressed closer. Her fingers grazed the car's taxi receipt she had left in her pocket—a small tether to the world outside.
The reflection reached toward her.
The faceless passenger hovered behind.
The driver's eyes gleamed under the cap.
Amara had a choice: step into the shadows, join the endless loop, or run for one last chance at reality.
She bolted toward the door—light spilled through the crack in the boards. She pushed, stumbled, and tumbled into the street outside.
For a moment, she was free. The city lights returned. Streetlamps flickered normally. Her legs carried her as fast as they could go.
Then, a familiar sound cut through the night—the rattle of a taxi engine behind her.
She froze. Heart hammering.
The headlights revealed a battered yellow taxi… empty.
And in the back seat, a shadow curled, waiting for her.
Amara screamed.
The taxi pulled up beside her.
And the door opened.