Roxxane's POV
Then comes the second layer, another cap, thicker, with a hood sewn into it (courtesy of my mom). When I pull it on, it hides almost everything: the curve of my jaw, the shape of my face, even the way I move. My reflection now looks less like me and more like the version I have to become.
Ronan.
The disguise is heavy on my head, but I’ve gotten used to the weight. I tug the hoodie tighter, zipping it up to my chin. The fabric brushes my neck, soft and safe— the one part of life that still feels like mine.
Then the gloves. Always the gloves. They keep my hands from trembling whenever I feel that familiar burn of fear always rushing through my veins.
When I’m done, I take a deep breath, letting the mask settle into place. My heart slows. My voice, when I finally spea
