The Vanity — Roberta C.M. DeCaprio

Jules reached out and touched the mirror. Suddenly she felt a surge of electricity run through her body, and a scene flashed before her mind's eye of a woman shielding the lovely piece from . . . from what? An incredible feeling of doom and evil filled her. In an instant Jules's breath was cut off. She gasped and backed away.

“What's wrong?” Khandi came beside her, quickly putting her arm around Jules's shoulders. “You've gone completely white.”

Jules swallowed with difficulty, feeling like the energy had been sucked right out of her. “I . . . don't . . . know,” she stammered. “I'm suddenly feeling so weak.”

“Let's splash some cold water on your face, and then get you lying down,” Khandi suggested, guiding Jules away from the vanity and into the hallway.

“Whatcha want us to do with this here thing, Mrs. Wheaton?” Ernie called down the hall.

Jules slowly turned around, a bit disorientated. To her dismay she wanted the vanity for herself. “Move it into the room at the top of the stairs,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.

Khandi frowned. “Whose room is that?”

Jules could barely get her voice out. “Mine.”