~ Amara ~
The boutique smelled of lilies and expensive floor wax. It was a scent that usually made me feel like I was intruding on someone else’s life. Today, it felt like a cage. Selene had practically dragged me here, her hand firm on my elbow as she guided me through the glass doors of 'L’Étoile'. She claimed it was for the Moore Family Foundation Gala, an event where my appearance was apparently a matter of national security.
"You really must try this one, Amara," Selene said, her voice dripping with that artificial sweetness she used as a weapon. She held up a gown that was little more than a slip of silver silk. "Though, I suppose we’ll have to see if the proportions work. Some silhouettes are less forgiving to... modest frames".
I took the dress without meeting her eyes. I had le
