[INT. BATHROOM – NIGHT] (Camera tight on a WOMAN, early 30s, staring into the mirror. The only sound is the quiet drip of a leaky faucet.) WOMAN (V.O.) It started with the mirror. I’d catch… moments. Flickers of something not quite right. (She brushes her teeth, glances up. Her REFLECTION doesn’t move for half a second longer than it should. She freezes.) WOMAN (V.O.) It smiled once. I wasn’t smiling. (She shuts off the faucet. Silence. Then—her reflection BLINKS... but she doesn’t.) WOMAN What the hell… (She slowly reaches toward the mirror. Her reflection lifts the wrong hand. She gasps.) WOMAN (V.O.) I stopped looking in mirrors after that. But they didn’t stop looking at me. (Suddenly, her reflection grins wide—unnaturally wide—and steps out of the mirror. The real woman screams—) [CUT TO BLACK] WOMAN (V.O., whispering) Now I’m the one inside.