Chapter 32 The alarm rang at 6:30 a.m., as merciless as Judgment Day. Anne didn’t move right away. She opened her eyes in the half-light and lay still, paralyzed by habit and fear, staring up at a ceiling she knew far too well. For one long, intimate, brutal moment, she wished the world wouldn’t expect her. But it did. And she knew what day it was. She knew what was expected of her. To go. To perform. To become Emma. She exhaled a sigh that seemed to leave her soul behind. She sat on the edge of the bed with sluggish movements, as though invisible weights were tied to her ankles. The air smelled of confinement, of choices left unmade. She forced herself to the bathroom, turned on the light, opened the tap, and let the freezing water slap her face—not to cleanse her skin, but to scour away the past. She looked in the mirror. There were her eyes. Anne’s. Broken. Empty. Then came the transformation. Ivory blouse. Executive skirt. Shoes that screamed forced dignity. She dress
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