Ava’s bedroom was a monument to organized chaos. Clothes were draped over a velvet armchair, posters of indie bands covered the lavender walls, and a string of fairy lights cast a soft, golden glow. The air smelled of vanilla perfume and the faint, clean scent of laundry. Selene stood in the center of it all, feeling like an alien in a familiar world.
“Okay, focus,” Ava declared, holding up two dresses on velvet hangers. “Option A: classic black lace, sophisticated, mysterious. Option B: the red.”
The red dress was a slip of silk, a deep crimson that seemed to drink the light. It was backless, with thin straps that would barely cover her shoulders. It was the kind of dress that made a statement Selene wasn’t sure she knew how to voice.
“The red,” Selene heard herself say.
Ava’s grin wa
