My mum forced me to wear this outfit, literally.Left for me alone, I would not be wearing a tweed blazer that made me feel like I was interviewing for a job I didn’t want. Under it was a cream silk blouse tucked neatly into a pleated black skirt that hit just above my knees. Modest, polished, too… presentable. My hair had been curled into soft waves and pinned slightly on one side, which she said gave my face “more warmth.” I felt like I was in disguise– Evie Hayes, polite daughter, not the girl who spent most of last night spiraling over the weight of too many secrets and one very complicated boy.Lorelei looked flawless, as always. Her dress was deep burgundy, hugging her waist and flowing down in velvet softness. Her hair was twisted into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, strands smooth, not a curl out of place. She wore red lipstick, the kind that didn’t smudge, and heels that probably cost more than my laptop.We stepped out of the car and walked up to the massive Caldwel
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