Excerpt: Mirror, Mirror

Kip.

I needed to do this for him. He would be so proud of me, if I pulled through. If we were successful, he would finally look at me the same way he looked at Pris, with love and tenderness in his harsh, Pacific and Atlantic eyes.

Something weighed down my left shoulder. It was the duffel bag. I felt it brush against my leg, the contents inside clanking around.

In my peripheral vision, Low's short black hair morphed into long, brown locks. His lanky frame became hard and muscular. Kip was beside me now. Not Low. Kip was here, walking me to the door.

"You can do it," Kip said, softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to me before. If I just kept on pretending that it was Kip who was beside me, guiding me, I could do this. I could rob this man without looking back.

Something fell.

It rolled across the floor and came to a stop a few inches away from Low's foot. I could feel my eyes widening, as I looked down. There was a hole in the bag.

Another can fell out, along with a few boxes of Mac & Cheese. I chanced a glance at Pris and the clerk. She was still on the floor. Her eyes were twitching. The clerk was looking up at us, his face like a contortionist, twisting up in to many different emotions.

Pris opened her eyes, and looked at me. Then her gaze moved over to the door. She was telling me to go. She was telling me to run. The clerk stood up, quickly despite his old age. He was angry. I could see his lips moving, but I couldn't hear his voice. I couldn't hear anything but the sirens getting closer and closer, until they were all I could think of.

We were going to be in trouble.

"Run!" Low shouted.

I ran.