"It's a stupid day," she muttered.
The mirror didn't respond.
It did, however, reflect the flowers on the nightstand by her bed. And the chocolates sitting on her desk. And the myriad of valentines, big and small and red and pink and glittery and pop-up, strewn across her comforter.
And the purple ring around her eye, the raised ridge on her cheek.
"A stupid day," she said again. A tear rolled down her face.
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