Malinda Lo

and tearing the article out beneath the table as quietly as possible. She knew she shouldn’t, but she had needed to have the picture in a way she didn’t consciously understand.

She couldn’t put into words why she had gathered these photos together, but she could feel it in her bones: a hot and restless urge to look—and, by looking, to know.

If Lily Hu didn’t do these things, the girl in the mirror surely did.

She lay in her bed for quite some time trying to catch that scent again, as if she might call it into existence out of the sheer force of memory.