Was it? Is she sure? She really isn't. Before these last few days, she wouldn't have noticed or cared even if her gaze had briefly rested on it only to go on. It's just a mirror. It's still just a mirror. But now it's like mirrors are following her; most of them cracked, all of them carrying the wrong versions of her face, if her face at all.

"I keep seeing mirrors. Everywhere." It's small and quiet, as if she's questioning even saying that much while not wanting to tell the rest. She hadn't liked admitting it to Kaz, but it had been impossible not to when she'd basically thrown her food tray after seeing her face torn open in it. She doesn't know Kaz enough, and he's all prickles. She knows how to handle the kind, but it doesn't make you want to spill.

But Viktor. Viktor isn't Kaz, and she's had a few more interactions with him.
He's one of the only three people keeping her secret about the bug even.

It's different. Somehow. Right now, especially.
When she adds, "Everything in them is wrong."