The Devil grins

My fingers unconsciously traced the neon blue stripes on my own sneakers – the beloved Mira, my trusty companions in the world of high-flying stunts. "Black with neon blue strikes, you say? Sounds familiar."

Cat’s makeup artist shot me a curious glance. "Wait, Mel, didn't you have a pair just like that?"

I straightened up, feigning innocence. "Oh, countless people have taste, darling. It's a common phenomenon."

As they continued dissecting the mysterious woman's attire, I couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that this tale had an unexpected twist.

And then, the bomb dropped. Someone pulled up a picture of the mysterious woman, her back to the camera, messy black hair cascading down her shoulders. My heart pounded in my chest as I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

That woman might have been... me?

The makeup artist leaned closer to the screen, comparing the picture to my disheveled appearance. "Oh my God, Mel, that's you! That's your signature messy hair. And those sneaker