ELENA The mirror stared back at me like it was trying to remember who I used to be. I leaned closer, steadying my hand as I traced eyeliner along my lash line slow and precise. No shaking, no rushing. Tonight wasn’t about spectacle. It was about timing. Behind me, my mother stood by the door, arms folded loosely, pretending she wasn’t watching my reflection more than the room itself. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Watching me like I might disappear again if she blinked. “You don’t need any more blush,” she said softly. I smiled. 1 1“I know. I’m not trying to look alive. Just… convincing.” She huffed quietly, the sound fond and sad all at once. The dress hugged me like it understood restraint. Deep midnight blue. Elegant and dangerous in its simplicity. No sequinsa and no drama. The kind of dress that didn’t beg for attention; it assumed it. Which felt appropriate, because tonight wasn’t about arriving loudly. It was about being impossible to ignore once revealed. “You
Last Updated : 2025-12-18 Read more