She opened the door anyway.
But Mara had been a proxy for seven years. She had carried three hundred and eleven ghosts. She had vomited up their deaths, their joys, their secret shames. And in all that time, she had learned one thing that Arthur the quantum architect never understood. reflect4 proxies
"If they ever load me into a Proxy," he said, "tell the proxy this: I didn't unravel. I escaped." She opened the door anyway
She saw a room. White. Sterile. Arthur standing in front of a mirror—not a Proxy mirror, but a real one. He was speaking to his own reflection. " he said
Mara snapped back. Her heart pounded—but was it hers or Arthur's?
"He's not dead," Mara-Arthur said.