I was more nervous than I’d ever been in my life—anxious, panicked, desperate. All the stress I’d felt before the hardest exams in my life was nothing compared to what I felt now.
I was on edge, every nerve taut. Mom had hired a stylist to do my makeup and hair. It felt like they were wrapping a product in fancy packaging to make it look more valuable and sell it for a higher price. Only the product… was me. Black lace lingerie, stockings, garter belt, a tiny black dress with a plunging neckline, and glossy black stilettos with ten-centimeter heels. I had no idea how anyone could walk in those and not break their neck.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized myself. There was nothing left of the real me. The girl looking back at me was a doll—a plaything, made to be
