"Ava, are you anxious?"
I lack the strength to respond, but the question still lingers. As I tighten the collar of my dress, which is a deep midnight blue that I hoped would evoke a feeling, my fingers tremble a little. It feels more like armor, a costume for a part I never tried out for. A part of a life that seems more and more alien.
I say, "I'm not nervous," but it's a hollow statement. In the hopes that it will be convincing, I fake a smile at my mirror.
However, I don't want to be the woman who is staring back at me. I hardly recognize her anymore.
My breath freezes in my throat as the living room door swings open behind me. The time has come.
"Supper is ready," declares the housekeeper. Her gentle yet stern voice serves as a reminder that night has come, the night I will formal
