As soon as the mirror clicked shut, Esme stood in place, her hand still grazing the surface. She stared at her reflection, her expression thoughtful, almost pensive. This mirror, like everything else in the house, was no ordinary piece of decor—it was a gateway, a tool of technology so advanced that even she struggled to comprehend its mechanics fully.
She let her fingers glide across the smooth, cold surface again, searching for the barely detectable imperfection she had discovered earlier. It was the only clue that gave away the hidden mechanism. When she pressed it just right, the door swung open. But even that wasn't entirely predictable; the mirror seemed to have a mind of its own, responding only when the conditions were perfect.