The Vanishing of Veronica Vale

Maybe longer. The same fog-caked trees loomed on either side of the road. The same crooked welcome sign leaned just outside city limits, half-covered in moss: *WELCOME TO DUSKHAVEN - WHERE T

is coffee down. "And she's performing the night before her wedding?" "It's Veronica. You know she likes a stage." He did. Too well. --- Madam Elira's guesthouse was nestled behind a crooked iron gate and a twisted oak tree that looked like it was trying to run away. The house itself was a Victorian monstrosity covered in ivy and wind chimes made of mismatched forks. Elira greeted him barefoot on the porch, wearing six scarves and what looked like a lampshade as a hat. "Mr. Wade," she said, bowing slightly. "The mirrors have been warned about you." "Good," Felix replied. "They've always been judgmental." She handed him a brass key with a raven etched into it and whispered, "Do not open the third drawer in the dresser. It *bites.*" He stared at her. She stared back. Then she turned and vanished into the mist like she'd never existed. The inside of his room was surprisingly clean, albeit full of oddities: wind-up clocks, antique toys, and three large mirrors - one of which *definitely* had fog inside the glass. Felix sat on the bed and exhaled. He was here for one weekend. He could survive that. Even if Veronica was marrying someone else. Even if he hadn't seen her since they were twenty. Even if- The mirror behind him flickered. He turned. Nothing. Just his reflection. Slouched. Tired. A man who used to write comic books and now mostly wrote grocery lists. --- The Duskhaven Community Theater looked like it had been built by someone who'd only heard *vaguely* how theaters worked. The seats were mismatched. The ceiling sagged. But the crowd was buzzing with small-town energy and the excitement of gossip. Felix found his seat in the third row, clutching a program that read: **"Tomorrow's Bride, Tonight's Star: Veronica Vale in 'Mirror, Mirror' - A One-Act Tragedy."** He winced. Then the lights dimmed. The play began with a monologue - a young woman reflecting on love, masks, and mirrors that never showed the whole t