String music drifted from hidden speakers as I hurried invisibly past polished walls and columns that refused to reflect me. I walked briskly past the fountain that spurted from a penny-lined pool and stepped onto the slow, creaking escalator. I did not pause until I reached the glass doors of my office on the upper story of the mall.

    This was supposed to be my lunch hour. In the confusion over losing my reflection, I had somehow forgotten that I was due back at work. Now it was nearly 2:00 and my employer, Gifford, would be looking for me.