LACEY
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Liam heading toward Emilia, but my focus doesn't budge.
Céline.
She stands there like she’s the one who’s been wronged — wide-eyed, trembling, like she just stumbled onto a stage she didn’t know she was standing on.
I wonder how many nights actresses like Jessica Monroe have spent in front of the mirror, trying to perfect that exact look. The helplessness. The carefully measured innocence. Céline wears it effortlessly, like it’s second nature.
Maybe it always was.
Maybe the entire friendship was just another performance.
No. No, I can’t—
I can’t believe that.
Because if I do, it means none of it was real. Not the late nights, not the laughter, not the way she used to cry in my arms and say I was the only person who ever stayed. It means I m
