A GIRL NAMED NOVA.
I turned to face the window, hiding the faint smile that tugged at my lips.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer, but his hand tightened slightly on the wheel — just enough for me to know that he’d heard me.
***The morning sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows of the Lawson estate, scattering fragments of gold across the marble floor. I stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection of the woman who gazed back at me — the woman I was becoming.
Nova.
But not the same Nova who used to cower behind her grandmother’s fence, afraid of whispers, afraid of eyes that mocked and judged. Not the girl who cried herself to sleep because her father chose another family over her.