the smuggler’s bible

Leonne

Leonne eats a bagel at the hotel, careful to avoid glancing at the newly waxed tiles, then leaves to find the man who spent a year staring into the mirror.

He doesn’t answer his door. Leonne tries to lean casually while she jimmies the lock. She ducks inside, dodging the tall gilt frame in the hall.

He is sitting cross-legged in the living room. “Breaking and entering is not zen,” the man who spent a year staring into the mirror says. “But you may ask one question.”

“What happens,” Leonne blurts out, “if your reflection gets wise before you do?”