I stared at the mirror, heart pounding, every hair on my arms standing up. The reflection blinked out. Then the screen went black.

I called my husband. No answer. Texted him: Did you install anything else with the mirror?

Three dots appeared. Then vanished. No reply.

I plugged the mirror into my laptop. There was a hidden partition. A folder named: “Julia01”. Inside—hundreds of videos. All of me. Cooking. Sleeping. Crying after a phone call.

Then clips from before I got the mirror.

Angles from inside my old apartment. Hotels I stayed at during work trips. My childhood home.

Whoever was watching me didn’t start last month. They had been watching… forever.

And the final video? Labeled:
“JULIA02_SETUP_COMPLETE.”

A woman appeared. Identical to me. Same voice. Same gestures. But she looked straight into the camera and whispered:
“It worked.”

The lesson?
Sometimes the scariest technology doesn’t steal your data—it steals your identity. And when the mirror starts recognizing someone else in your skin…
the real you might already be gone.