The next day, I stood in front of my mirror for almost ten minutes without moving. My hands were feeling cold and my breath kept shaking… In fact, I could not even recognize the woman staring back at me.
I was dressed in a formal black dress, the kind my father always approved of. The kind he believed “commanded respect.” I hated that I knew this.
I hated that I was doing it… I hated that a part of me still reacted to the rules he beat into my mind.
But I needed him to be calm and I also needed him to be relaxed when he saw me…. I needed him to believe I was walking into his office as the obedient daughter he always wanted.
I touched the top of the dress again, smoothing it even though it was already smooth. My chest really felt heavy today…
Then I bent and leaned forward and whispere
