Sentencing Day
~ Alyssa ~ Morning breaks quiet — unnaturally quiet. Not even the birds dare sing outside the house today. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, watching a woman I barely recognise button her tailored jacket. The deep charcoal-grey fabric fits like armour. My hair is down today — sleek, heavy waves brushing my shoulders — a deliberate choice. No pulled ponytail. No exposed vulnerability. My heels — red-bottomed, sharp enough to draw blood — click against the hardwood floor as I move. They’re my battle cry. My Louboutins have seen boardrooms, runways, and births. Today, they’re walking me through the last shadow of my past. Downstairs, the scent of coffee and toast drifts through the air, clashing with the low hum of conversation. Greyson’s standing by the counter, immaculate in h
- Writer
