Chapter 39

• I stood in front of the boutique’s mirror, my reflection softer than I expected it to be. The silk blouse I wore clung to my shoulders like a second skin, cream with a faint sheen that caught the morning light. Underneath, the bones of me still burned. Everything about today had been rehearsed in my mind for weeks, yet my chest was tight with a different kind of pressure.
• The press preview would begin in an hour.
• I adjusted the collar, watching the quiet movements of my fingers. Every detail of my outfit had been chosen not just to impress, but to disarm. To suggest warmth and power. Mercy and consequence. I looked like a woman ready to explain her rebirth to the world, and maybe I was. But beneath the silk and soft palette, I felt something sharper gathering at the base of my throat.