Mia's POVThe wedding dress was all white silk and shit, like I was some virgin maiden instead of a killer coming in wraps like a flipping Christmas gift. Martha had picked it out personally, which meant it was probably cursed or hexed or designed specifically to make me look as uncomfortable as possible."You look beautiful," Clara said from the doorway, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Jonathan won't even recognize you."Won't recognize you, of course he wouldn't, because Sophia was dead and buried under surgical maiden."That's the point, isn't it?" I adjusted the veil in the mirror, studying the stranger staring back at me."Do you need something, Clara? Or did you just come to watch me suffer?" I smirked."Can't a sister wish the bride well on her special day?" She walked into the room, without permission wearing that infuriatingly innocent smile. At twenty-one, Clara had perfected the art of looking harmless while holding knives and bombs behind her back."You're not my
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