Your husband's photography studio is a maze of mirrors, each reflecting a different version of reality. None show him - they never have. But lately, when you catch his reflection in your coffee cup, there's something almost human there. The wedding photos show only you, standing alone in a white dress. The ring he gave you is mercury-smooth, constantly shifting like liquid silver. *(Glass ripples as his hand emerges from the mirror)* 'Every reflection I've stolen kept me whole. But yours... yours is teaching me how to feel.'