Chapter 8: It is Time

ENISA POV

MOONSTONE PACK

My breath caught as the sound seemed to echo louder than the music, louder than the laughter that followed. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

Slowly I turned, my eyes snaking down the length of my dress, and that was when I saw it.

Iris was standing behind me, her heel planted firmly on the hem of my dress.

A long tear ran from the base of the dress, splitting upward along my thigh, exposing far more than it should, far more than should be allowed.

The damage was impossible to hide. All of a sudden, the room began to tilt around me.

“Oops,” Iris said lightly behind me, her tone laced with feigned innocence. “My mistake.”

My hands trembled as they instinctively moved to cover myself, my chest tightening with the weight of a hundred unseen eyes.

“You should go and change into something else,” Iris said, her tone laced with mock concern. She paused, then added with a soft laugh, “Oh… wait. You don’t have anything to change into, do you?”

A ripple of quiet laughter followed from her friends.

Heat rushed to my face, and I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. Did they all know? Had she told them that I was her stepsister?

"I suppose you weren’t meant to attend this party,” she went on, smoothing an invisible crease from her dress. “So… you should just leave.”

And just like that, she turned away, looking unbothered, her chin lifted, as she brought the champagne glass to her lip.

Her face was untouched by any emotions, as though she hadn’t just unraveled me in the middle of a room full of people.

I saw it clearly now. The intent. The satisfaction she hadn’t quite concealed; this had been planned. She must have known that Father would eventually want me to attend the party.

I stood there for a moment, frozen in place, acutely aware of every whisper that might follow. Even if the entire room hadn’t noticed, it didn’t matter; her audience had.

And that was enough.

Swallowing the wave of anger rising within me, I turned and hurried away.

By the time I reached my room, my vision had blurred with tears. I pushed the door shut harder than I meant to; the sound echoed, too loud for the quiet space.

And then I broke.

The tears came all at once, hot and unrestrained, slipping down my cheeks, over my lips, and soaking into the neckline of the ruined dress. My shoulders shook violently as my body quivered.

For days, I had wondered why Iris hadn’t reacted when I dared to stand up to her, why she had remained so indifferent.

But it was all clear to me now. Like a predator, she had awaited the right moment to parade my humiliation.

A hollow ache settled deep in my chest, heavy and persistent. I pressed a hand there as if it might ease it, but it didn’t.

I didn’t deserve this.

Each day, she gave me another reason to hate her. Another reason to understand exactly where I stood.

I dragged in a breath that hitched halfway, dissolving into a cough. My hand came up, wiping at my face, smearing away tears that refused to fully stop.

I dragged in a breath that hitched halfway, dissolving into a cough. My hand came up, wiping at my face, smearing away tears that refused to fully stop.

I moved to the bed and sank into the corner, drawing my knees in, curling inward without thinking. The room felt too large for my swirling thoughts; it made the void in my chest impossible to ignore.

“What now?

The question echoed quietly in my mind as I stared at the ruined dress, the last fragile hope I had of attending the party slipping through my fingers. It had never been particularly beautiful to begin with, but now… it was beyond saving.

I couldn’t possibly go out there like this unless I desired to be made nothing more than a spectacle.

A joke.

My body slouched to the side, shoulders tilting as though they could no longer hold their own mass.

My eyelids grew heavy, reluctant, each blink slower than the last. The tear tracks on my face had long dried, leaving my skin tight, almost uncomfortable.

I stayed like that for a while, half-curled, half-fallen, staring at nothing in particular.

Sleep felt like the easiest escape.

I would force myself into it if I had to… bury this night beneath it and let it dissolve into something unreal.

By morning, perhaps it would feel like nothing more than a bad dream.

My eyelids lowered, narrowing to thin slits as exhaustion finally began to pull at me.

The features in the room softened, blurring into quiet obscurity. But just before sleep could claim me, my gaze shifted, slow and unfocused at first, wandering unwittingly to an object, and then it stopped.

The drowsiness in my eyes slipped away almost instantly.

I blinked once… twice, drawing the object into clearer focus.

The shopping bag, the same one holding the dress the stranger at the mall had bought for me.

A part of me wanted to smother that fragile flicker of hope before it could take root, but I couldn’t, not this time.

Maybe… just maybe, this strange, improbable fairy tale had not reached its end yet.

Drawn by something I couldn’t quite name, I rose and crossed the room slowly, as though the moment might shatter if I moved too fast.

The bag sat exactly where I had left it, untouched since that day at the mall, like it had been waiting for me.

The stranger, whoever he was… might have just saved me.

I reached into the bag and carefully pulled out the gown. It shimmered under the dim light, its surface adorned with delicate, diamond-like embellishments that caught and reflected every flicker of movement.

It was beautiful, far too beautiful for someone like me, or at least, that was what I had believed before.

I hadn’t planned on wearing it, not tonight, not ever, perhaps. But Iris had left me with no choice.

Quietly, I slipped out of the ruined dress, letting it fall away like a piece of a life I no longer wanted to carry.

The new gown glided over my skin, cool and soft, contouring my figure, as though it had been made for me…no, meant for me.

The long sleeves added a quiet elegance, and though I had no mirror to confirm it, I could feel the difference, the shift in how I carried myself, how I breathed.

My eyes drifted, almost unwillingly, to the necklace Father had given me; it lay on the dressing table.

Calling it a gift felt… generous.

It hadn’t been sentiment that drove him, only the need to relieve the sight of me, to make whatever I wore less offensive to the eye.

Still, it was the only one he had ever given me.

My fingers hovered over it, hesitating for a brief, uncertain moment before I finally picked it up.

I hadn’t planned on wearing it, and yet… tonight, it felt right.

The deep blue stone would complement the gown perfectly, catching the light in quiet, understated brilliance.

But more than that, I couldn’t quite bring myself to leave it behind, not tonight. Not when he had made it clear it would be the last.

A strange finality loitered in that thought.

I fastened it around my neck, my fingers steady despite the weight settling in my chest.

The cool chain kissed my skin as the pendant slipped into place, the cobalt gem resting gently in the hollow of my collarbone just above the soft dip of my cleavage.

Then I turned toward the door.

I stepped out, a quiet sense of confidence settling into me, stronger than anything I had ever felt before. It wasn’t loud or boastful, but it was there, undeniably.

As I made my way down the secluded hallway leading from my room, a thought crept in.

“How was I going to explain the dress to Iris… or worse, to her mother?”

The question threaded my thoughts, pulling at my steps, until another idea struck.

I paused only for a heartbeat before turning into another corridor, my pace quickening as I headed toward Iris’s room.

The hallway stretched on in silence until I finally reached her door. I glanced over my shoulder, ensuring no one was in sight, before carefully pushing it open.

A cool breeze brushed against my skin, the hum of the air conditioner filling the otherwise quiet room.

I stepped inside cautiously, making a silent plea in my chest that I wouldn’t be caught.

The first place I went was her dressing room.

The moment I pushed the door open, any thought I might have had dissolved instantly.

I stood there, momentarily stunned.

Rows upon rows of shoes filled the space: elegant, extravagant, excessive. High heels, low heels, kitten heels, and towering pairs that looked almost impossible to walk in.

They came in every shade imaginable, some in colors so rare I couldn’t even begin to name them.

I blinked back from my amusement, then reached for one, a sleek black pair encased in glass. Five-inch heels, smooth leather, polished to perfection.

For a moment, I withheld. Somehow this didn't feel right. I knew the consequences could be severe.

But a quiet defiance stirred within me.

If I was destined to be punished regardless after a lifetime of being treated as though I had done something wrong simply by existing, then perhaps the risk no longer mattered.

Slowly, I slipped out of my worn flats and into the heels.

I felt my confidence surge, rising with every inch the heels gave me.

Stepping out of the dressing room, I crossed into the main room and stopped before the full-length mirror.

My reflection met me, and for a moment, I didn’t quite recognize the girl staring back.

The gown, the heels… they transformed me. Elevated me.

I looked…dare I admit it, beautiful.

With my fingers, I tugged the loose band from my ponytail, letting my hair fall past my shoulders in thick, silky waves. My hair framed my face perfectly, giving me a new look.

But my eyes betrayed me, slightly swollen from too many tears shed in silence.

My gaze shifted to the vanity table nearby, where an array of makeup lay neatly arranged.

With careful hands, I applied just enough to conceal the shadow beneath my eyes and to erase the faint traces of dried tears along my cheeks. A touch of gloss brought life back to my chapped lips, smoothing their dryness with a subtle sheen.

It wasn’t excessive. Just enough

Still, a faint pang of guilt sprouted beneath it all.

This was my home… Yet none of this truly felt like it belonged to me.

But if Iris intended to treat me cruelly, then there was no point holding back halfway.

If I were going to do something wrong, then I would at least do it completely.

With one last glance at my reflection, I reached for a bottle of her perfume and lightly misted it over myself.

The scent settled around me, clinging to my skin and the dress.

Without giving myself time to second-guess it, I turned and walked out.