The butterfly mask fluttered to the ground like a feather.
No one paid it any attention.
All eyes were glued to the woman in black—wait, not a woman, a girl.
She looked about seventeen or eighteen, soft brows and a delicate nose, her skin fair like porcelain.
Her eyes? Bright, dewy, like stars had fallen into them.
A slight curve of her lips, tinted red, lazily seductive—far too alluring for someone her age.
A strange mix of innocence and temptation, perfectly balanced on her.
“V-V-Vivian?”
Someone in the crowd finally recognized her.
That someone was Lily Parker, best friend of Daphne.
Seeing Vivian right now just broke Lily’s brain.
Wasn’t Daphne’s older sister that awkward country girl adopted by the Grants?
How the hell did she end up being the mys
