"Hello Gracie..."

Her hands flew to her face, in utter excitement. "I have to have it!" Gracie wasn't sure if she was more enamored with how the mirror complimented her complexion, or the mirror itself. No... on second thought, the mirror definitely outshined her pale, freckled face. Many a day she had walked past this antiques store, always peeking into the window, but never taking the time to peruse within. Twenty minutes later, as she was ready to part empty handed, a mirror, hanging adjacent to the cashier's counter, caught her attention. Or perhaps it was she who caught the mirrors attention? It seemed to speak to her, it seemed like it had stories to tell.

Regal and elegant, the only words she could find to describe it. Its antique gold finish, baroque-style detailing, and flamboyant fleur-de-lis symbol was absolutely stunning! The price, not so much... After a few finger taps against her lips, she stood there, teetering back and forth on her candy apple red stiletto. She was completely entranced by its beauty, and as a bonus, she had the perfect place in which to hang it, in her Upper Manhattan studio apartment. "I have to have it!"

Once the transaction was complete and the mirror encased in bubble wrap, she found herself musing over the thought of getting it home in one piece, and actually getting herself home in one piece. It kind of became a "cart before the horse" scenario. Her apartment was only a quarter of a mile away but the two flights of stairs would require some ninja warrior-like moves. She should have worn her loafers...

With clear skies and calm winds on her side she managed up the flights and let a winded but powerful sigh escape her mouth, as she reached the top. Leaning the wrapped mirror against the wall, she unlocked her apartment door, as a waft of apple cinnamon came flooding into the hallway. Candy apple shoes, apple cinnamon in her Scentsy warmer, yes, fall was her favorite time of year. She scooped up the mirror and scooted through the doorway, closing it behind her with a quick soccer kick.

Tap. tap, tap. Little nails ran across the weathered hardwood floor. Chauncey was right at her feet, tail wagging, mouth drooling, eyes glancing up at her, pleading to be picked up. Chauncey was her three year old Chihuahua, whom she had gained full custody of after her nasty divorce. It wasn't difficult to make that happen. Alan was always yelling at him, "Shut up or you're taking a one way trip to the dog park." Of course, that just made him bark more incessantly...

Alan...even saying his name rose an out of control adrenaline rush. They married four years ago, she 27 and he 41. It wasn't a fairytale, even in the beginning, a red flag she had unfortunately brushed aside. She mistook his dominance for an age difference thing, thinking that he being older just made him more experienced in knowing what he wanted and what he didn't. She dearly paid for her naivete. The bruises, the black eyes, the marks around her neck... All too often she showed up to work, sporting strategic clothing, keeping the evidence as discreet as possible. The only one fooled was herself.

Breaking free was most terrifying, yet equally exhilarating. Two years ago, she knew that Alan's upcoming three day business trip could be her one and only way out. But could she do it? She had played out the scenario many times but never found courage sitting beside her. She knew how furious he would be, coming home to the note she would scribble out and leave for him, containing just two words, "No more!". She knew if she was to muster up the strength to seize the opportunity, she had to be thorough, she had to be precise - crossing all of the T's, dotting all of the I's. She also knew, if he ever found her, it would be over.

The day had come. Alan was on the plane, heading to Houston. Gracie had said good-bye with a swift brush of her lips against his cheek, knowing it would be her last. With just a single suitcase clutched in her hand, she walked away from misery and pain, fleeing from Sacramento to New York City, never looking back into that shattered rear view mirror she had called her life for two years. She took on her sister-in-law's maiden name, changed her golden locks to auburn, ditched her cell phone and opened up the bakery she had always dreamed of.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for the emails to come flooding in. Alan was determined to find her. The threats were real and for many weeks she feared he would show up at her door. Then, nothing...he became silent, and in that time, she became stronger and more resilient. Oh the time wasted, never to be regained. He may have stolen a piece of her life but he was denied the satisfaction of taking it.

Shaking loose from the horrid nightmares of the past, Gracie found herself scrambling through the junk drawer. She managed to gather up a couple of screws that were hiding under a pad of post-it-notes and then proceeded to dig out the tiny screw gun from her chic tool bag, one of her first purchases after the divorce. "Handyman" wasn't her middle name but she got by, and jerry-rigging was a newly found trade.

Aha! After a little tweaking and a few too many holes in the plastered sheetrock, the mirror was mounted on the almost bare hallway wall, its only companion an amber hued wall sconce. Gracie stepped back, with arms folded across her chest, proud of her success, and found herself staring into the mirror. Again, she felt entranced.

Seconds later she snapped to and noticed it was tilted a bit to the left. With a gentle nudge to the right it was now hanging, perfectly balanced, ironically symbolizing the life she was finally living. But oh what it took to get there...

The sun was setting over the city's skyline and Chauncey, who liked to stay on schedule, was itching at the bit for his early evening walk. While throwing on her windbreaker, she grabbed the blue polka-dotted leash and then whisked him into her arms for the long flight down. The "steps" goal on her Apple watch would never know what it felt like to sense achievement without those stairs, so no complaining!

Twenty minutes later, with Chauncey relieved and content, she arrived back home. It was time to take a last look at emails before jumping in the shower. Being the owner of a bakery disallowed any scheduled normalcy and she was usually up before most were even contemplating finding their pillows. After a quick scroll, she determined there were no urgent replies needed, closed the laptop, tossed a biscuit to Chauncey and headed down the hallway toward the bedroom.

She once again admired the beautiful oration of the mirror as she began to pass by. But this time, something felt different. As she continued to swagger past, she suddenly found herself motionless. What had she seen out of the corner of her eye that quickly rose the hair on the nape of her neck? She took a step back, looked in the mirror, and saw a pair of tired, puffy eyes staring back at her. Ugh...time to get some shut eye.

Out of the shower, with a towel wrapped on her head and her purple, fluffy bathrobe sheltering her damp body, she shuffled to the bedroom, where Chauncey was patiently waiting on the bed. "Not yet kiddo. Mama forgot to start the dishwasher."

Gracie headed back down the hallway. As she passed the mirror, she once again caught something unsettling, out of the corner of her eye. Was it a subtle movement? Was it a reflection of the city lights bouncing off the wall? Was it nothing at all? She paused, gazing into the mirror. It almost seemed to be enticing her but she wasn't sure with what. There was an eeriness she couldn't quite grasp, but it felt real. She continued to the kitchen, nodding her head back and forth, trying to shake that unexplained feeling. Sleep deprivation was playing tricks on her mind.

With the dishwasher started, she hastily made a cup of chamomile tea as a nightly attempt to help bring about slumber. It never helped... but for some reason it was a habit she didn't feel like breaking.

She grabbed her mug, flipped the kitchen light switch off and meandered back down the hall. The eeriness re-appeared, but this time much more intense. She continued along, gingerly.

Puzzled, and ready to have a one-on-one conversation with her brain over the necessity of better sleeping habits, she looked up and faced directly into the mirror, ready to begin her impromptu lecture. As her mouth opened and the first word ready to spill out, her body immediately became rigid. There was an image looking back at her and it was paralyzing her with sheer terror. Her mouth began to quiver, her body falling subject to uncontrollable shaking. The sound of her mug hitting the floor echoed down the hallway. From the bedroom Chauncey began his incessant barking. In the blink of an eye, all of the strength and resilience she had worked so hard to gain was ripped right from her soul.

Staring back was an all too familiar face. "Hello Gracie." Alan's dark, piercing eyes were squinting back at her, his mouth donning the grin of a jester. The mirrored glass shattered, explosive in nature, with shards bursting their way down the hallway. She saw his hand coming towards her, reaching for her throat and the gentle squeeze quickly transformed into a relentless clench. It was over.