Lin Mei adjusted her wire-rimmed spectacles and stared up at the driver’s mirror.
The sixteen-inch convex acrylic dome bulged outward above Mac’s head. It reflected the entire center aisle of Coach #404 in sharp, curved distortion.
In the real cabin, Harlan Reed was shivering right in front of her in Seat 1A.
In the mirror, Seat 1A was vacant.
The blue vinyl cushion showed only the curved reflection of the ceiling handrails. Lin Mei tracked her gaze backward down the glass aisle, counting the seat rows in her head.
Row 7. Row 8. Row 9. Row 10.
There, in Row 11, stood Harlan Reed’s reflection.
The phantom figure wore the same charcoal windbreaker and torn blue jeans. Its right arm hung limp at its side. But its neck was twisted all the way around, facing backward toward the rear engine bench.
