Anna's POV
Courtney’s hands are steady in a way mine aren’t.
“Hold still,” she murmurs, leaning in close as she blends the last sweep of color along my cheekbone. “If you flinch, I’m blaming nerves and charging you extra.”
I huff out a laugh that sounds thinner than I want it to. “You’re already charging me emotional damages.”
She grins at me in the mirror. “Worth it.”
My bedroom is a soft chaos of dresses, shoes, discarded hairpins, and the faint scent of perfume hanging in the air. The lamp on my dresser casts a warm glow that makes everything feel slightly unreal, like I’m standing inside a painting instead of my childhood room. I barely recognize the girl staring back at me.
Not because she looks different—though she does—but because she looks… certain.
Courtney steps back, appr
