Megan Ravn swirled the champagne in her glass, the bubbles catching the light of the single bulb overhead. The room pulsed with a strange energy—black balloons bobbed against cobwebs strung across a grand piano, pumpkins grinned beside glittering streamers. She’d been waiting for this moment all year, anticipating the arrival of someone she hadn't seen in decades. The mirror behind her showed an impossible scene: another woman, identical to her but holding a different glass, stood before a clock frozen at midnight. It wasn't her reflection; it was something else entirely—a phantom echo from a forgotten celebration, a harbinger of what the night would bring. A chill ran down her spine as she raised her glass in a silent toast to the unseen guest.