The scent of freshly cut grass and approaching rain filled the autumn air as Jessica, poised atop the pyramid, struck her pose. Her muscles trembled with effort, but she held steady, forcing a bright smile even as sweat trickled down her spine. The weight of two weeks' worth of sabotage and mounting tension pressed down on her shoulders harder than any stunt. Everything had to be perfect. Had to be—

  A shift beneath her. The tiniest wobble.

  Jessica's heart lurched as her base gave way. Through the corner of her eye, she caught Salina's expression–that now-familiar dark smile that seemed to drink in her predicament. The same smile she'd worn when Jessica's uniform had mysteriously vanished before last week's game, only to reappear soaking wet minutes before kickoff. Before gravity took hold, Jessica saw Camella and Amber exchange knowing looks, their synchronized movement more like choreography than accident. Then she was falling, the world tilting sideways as she twisted midair, muscle memory from countless practices helping her barely land in a crouch instead of face-planting into the turf.

  "Oh my god, are you okay?" Tiffany rushed over, her designer sneakers squeaking against the grass as she helped Jessica to her feet. The concern in her voice seemed genuine, but Jessica hadn't missed how Tiffany had been gravitating toward Salina's growing circle of influence. "What happened?"

  "Ask her." Jessica jerked her chin toward Salina, who stood examining her black-painted nails with affected disinterest. The dark polish was new–like everything about Salina since that night–replacing her usual pale pink. "She moved early."

  "I did exactly what Coach Harris demonstrated," Salina said, her voice dripping honey-sweet venom. The sound carried across the field with unnatural clarity, drawing everyone's attention like moths to a flame. "Maybe you're just... not as stable as you used to be?"

  A chorus of whispers rippled through the squad, the words indistinct but their meaning clear. Jessica's cheeks burned as several girls nodded, clearly buying Salina's innocent act. Rachel, one of the new girls, wouldn't even meet her eyes. Ever since that night at the haunted house–since whatever had happened to Salina in that ancient mirror–everything about her former best friend had changed. The old Salina, who'd once had a panic attack before having to speak in front of their history class, would never have pulled a stunt like this.

  "Again!" Coach Harris's voice cut through the chatter, sharp and authoritative. She stood at the edge of the practice field, clipboard clutched tight enough to whiten her knuckles. "And this time, let's try to stay upright, ladies."

  Jessica took her position, ignoring the knowing smirks some of the other cheerleaders exchanged. She couldn't prove Salina had sabotaged her, just like she couldn't prove how her music kept mysteriously cutting out during solo routines, or how her water bottle had tasted oddly bitter yesterday until she'd dumped it out. But she knew. Salina’s calculated smile, every too-perfect movement, every impossible feat of grace that the real Salina could never have managed has the evidence.

  The pyramid built beneath her, stance by stance. Jessica rose higher, hyper-aware of Salina's presence in her base. When she reached the top, she forced herself to focus. To breathe. To ignore the whispers of doubt that had been growing louder with each passing day. She could handle this. She could—

  Another shift. This time Jessica was ready, having felt the subtle tension in the formation a heartbeat before it gave way. As her balance wavered, she compensated, muscles straining to hold position. Sweat beaded on her forehead but she didn't fall. Wouldn't give Salina–or whatever was wearing Salina's face–the satisfaction.

  "Much better!" Coach Harris called, though Jessica could hear the uncertainty in his voice. The tall man had been watching their power struggle unfold with growing concern. "Hold it... hold it... and down!"

  The dismount was perfect, Jessica's feet hitting the grass with practiced precision. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph, and saw it reflected in the faces of the few girls who still supported her.

  "Show off," Salina muttered as she passed, shoulder checking Jessica hard enough to make her stumble. The impact felt wrong somehow–too cold, too solid, like running into a marble statue.

  "What is your problem?" Jessica grabbed Salina's arm, spinning her around. The other girl's eyes flashed with something dark and unfamiliar–a momentary glimpse of bottomless black, like staring into that ancient mirror all over again.

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  "My problem?" Salina's laugh held an edge sharp enough to cut, the sound making several nearby girls flinch. "I'm not the one who can barely hold a basic stunt anymore. Face it, Jessica–maybe it's time for someone else to take the lead."

  "Is that what this is about? My position?" Jessica tightened her grip on Salina's arm, noticing how unnaturally cool the skin felt beneath her fingers. "Or is it about whatever happened to you that night?"

  Something flickered behind Salina's eyes–a shadow of recognition, quickly buried beneath that perfect mask. For a split second, Jessica thought she saw her friend trying to surface, struggling against whatever force had taken hold.

  "Ladies!" Coach Harris's sharp voice made them both jump. He'd moved closer, clearly sensing the mounting tension. "Less drama, more practice. The big game's in two weeks and we need to be sharp."

  Jessica released Salina's arm, but the other girl didn't move. For a moment, they stood locked in a silent battle of wills. Then Salina's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes–eyes that seemed to reflect the late afternoon sun like polished obsidian.

  "Better watch your back, girlfriend," she whispered, her breath unnaturally cold against Jessica's ear. "Things change. People change. And soon, everyone will see exactly who deserves to be on top."

  Before Jessica could respond, Salina sauntered away to join a group of younger cheerleaders who had been watching the exchange with poorly concealed interest. Jessica noticed with a sinking feeling how they clustered around Salina, hanging on her every word. Their eyes held the same glazed admiration she'd seen spreading through the squad like a virus.

  "Don't let her get to you."

  Jessica turned to find Kevin hovering nearby, a physics textbook clutched to his chest like a shield. His glasses were slightly askew, and he had that nervous energy she'd known since they were kids. She hadn't even noticed him arriving to watch practice–he'd been doing that more often lately, though she suspected it wasn't for her benefit anymore.

  "Easy for you to say. She's not trying to destroy your life." Jessica wiped sweat from her forehead, watching as Salina showed a complicated flip that seemed to defy gravity. "Though maybe she is different now."

  Kevin shifted uncomfortably. "Come on, Jessica. This is Salina we're talking about. Our friend?"

  "Is she?" Jessica watched as Salina landed the impossible move, her movements fluid as dark water. The surrounding girls burst into applause, their eyes reflecting an almost fevered worship. "Because the Salina I knew could barely do a cartwheel without panicking. The Salina we grew up with would never act like this."

  Kevin's gaze drifted to where Salina was now holding court, her laughter carrying across the field like breaking glass. "Maybe she's just... coming out of her shell?"

  "By sabotaging me? By turning half the squad against me?" Jessica's voice cracked. "Kevin, you were there that night. You saw what happened at the house. The mirror, the way she collapsed, how cold she was–like ice. She's different now."

  "People change," Kevin said, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. A flush had crept up his neck–the same one she'd noticed whenever Salina was around lately. "Listen, I should go. I promised to help Salina with her chemistry homework and—"

  "Since when does Salina need help with chemistry? She's always been better at it than you, even though you are a nerd." Jessica felt an icy knot forming in her stomach. "She tutored us both last semester, remember?"

  Kevin's cheeks darkened further. "Well, maybe I just want to spend time with her. Did you ever think of that?"

  The words hit Jessica like a physical blow. She stared at her oldest friend, seeing the way his eyes kept drifting toward Salina, the slight flush in his cheeks. The nervous energy wasn't fear–it was attraction. Something cold and heavy settled in her stomach as she realized she was losing him too.

  "Kevin..." she started, but he was already backing away, almost tripping over his own feet.

  "I've got to go. Good luck with practice."

  Jessica watched him hurry across the field to where Salina waited, that same dark smile playing at her lips. As Kevin approached, Salina's eyes met Jessica's over his shoulder. The look in them was pure triumph–and something else, something hungry that made Jessica's skin crawl.

  "Alright, everyone circle up!" Tiffany called, her voice carrying a new authority that perfectly matched her designer workout gear. "Let's run through the new routine!"

  Jessica took her place at the front of the formation, trying to ignore the whispers behind her. She could feel Salina's presence like a shadow at her back, waiting for her to slip up. To fail. The music started–a darker, more aggressive mix that Salina had "suggested" last week–and Jessica threw herself into the routine with desperate intensity. Every move had to be flawless. Had to prove she deserved her position. Had to—

  Something hooked her ankle mid-flip. Jessica went down hard, skinning her palms on the turf. Laughter erupted from several of the girls, the sound unnaturally synchronized.

  "Oh dear," Salina's voice dripped with false concern. "Perhaps we should simplify the routine? For safety's sake, of course. We wouldn't want our captain to hurt herself."

  Jessica pushed herself up, ignoring the sting in her hands and the way tiny drops of blood welled up where the turf had scraped her skin. She met Salina's gaze, seeing nothing of her old friend in those cold, dark eyes. For a moment, they seemed to swallow all the surrounding light, like twin black holes set in her perfect face.

  "This isn't over," she whispered, forcing steel into her voice. "Whatever you are, whatever you did to her, I'm going to find out."

  Salina's smile widened, showing too many teeth. "Oh, poor Jessica. It's only just beginning. And soon, everyone will see exactly what I can do."

  *****

  The rest of practice passed in a blur of tension and barely concealed hostility. By the time Coach Harris finally dismissed them, the squad had divided into clear factions–those still loyal to Jessica, and those drawn to Salina's dark charisma. The latter group grew larger every day, like shadows lengthening at sunset.

  As Jessica gathered her things, she caught sight of Kevin and Salina leaving together, heads bent close in conversation. Salina's laugh drifted back to her, sharp and cold as the winter wind. The sound made her chest ache with loss–not just for Kevin, but for the quiet, kind girl who had been her best friend since elementary school. Whatever was happening to her former friend, whatever dark thing had taken hold that night in the haunted house, she had to stop it.

  Before she lost everything–and everyone–she cared about.

  And before whatever was wearing Salina's face like an ill-fitting mask showed them all exactly what it could do.