The next morning, I sat on the patio just outside the kitchen, letting the mild breeze brush through my hair. The sun was shining, but my mind felt heavy. I’d been thinking a lot about everything.
As I sat there, Amy walked in from the back door, carrying a small box. “Sasha,” she called out with excitement. “You got a package!”
I frowned, not expecting anything. “A package? From who?”
Amy placed the box on the table in front of me, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I don’t know, but it looks fancy.”
I stared at the box for a moment, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest. Something about it already felt wrong. Slowly, I reached for it and lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of gleaming black heels—Louboutins. The kind of shoes that scream money and status, with red soles that might as well
