The dress was black.
Simple, long, fitted in a way that suggested someone had taken measurements without me knowing, which was either impressive or unsettling and I had not decided which. There was nothing flashy about it. No detail that screamed money. But when I put it on I understood that this was what real money looked like. Not loud. Just exact.
It fit perfectly.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room and looked at myself for a long time.
I did not look like Aria Voss from the small apartment with the view of the building next door. I looked like someone who belonged in rooms I had never been in. Someone comfortable with space and light and people watching. Someone who had not spent the last week sleeping in a house that was not hers, lying awake listening to the unfamiliar sou
