Chapter 41 Ready?
- By the time the styling team arrived, the air had already shifted.
- Voices rose in polite flurries—coats shuffled off shoulders, wheeled cases clattered open, someone was asking about lighting near a mirror. Rosie stood in the center of it all, still barefoot, pulse ticking in her throat like a countdown she hadn’t agreed to.
- “Just breathe,” she whispered to herself. Useless advice.