“Here, this should do,” Abigail strutted into my bedroom with clacking heels, holding up a charcoal sleeveless drop-waist dress on a hanger.She was already dressed, of course, donned in a simple tailored maroon dress that sharpened her silhouette. Her raven black hair was swept into an elegant braid and adorned with white-jade clips.I was still barefoot in front of the mirror, hair curled and pinned halfway up, mascara wand in hand, and blinking at my own reflection like I didn’t quite recognize it.The room smelled faintly of my rose toner, flat iron smoke, and the lingering pomegranate scent from the lotion I borrowed from my mom. My nerves were a separate scent, sharp and cloying, like metal and something gone sour.I stared at the dress she brought like it had teeth. “You do realize it’s winter, right?”Abigail hummed resonantly and dropped it on the bed with a careful flourish. “I'm aware but you'll live,” she asserted, turning away.I reached for the fabric on my bed, caressin
Last Updated : 2025-04-29 Read more