Serenity
The woman in the mirror looked expensive.
And absolutely nothing like me.
Hair slicked back into a low twist that said “elegant restraint.” Nude lipstick. Diamond studs smaller than my pinky nail—just enough to whisper wealth without drawing attention.
The dress was black, minimal, it's the kind of thing you only wear if your confidence doesn’t need sequins. It fit perfectly. Because of course it did. The seamstress had taken my measurements like I was being prepared for auction.
“Try not to cross your legs at the knee,” the etiquette coach said without looking up. “It bunches the fabric and makes you appear... common.”
Common.
That word hit like a slap.
I adjusted, careful not to make a sound.
Across the room, Jenna was watching everything unfold like a director with an
