Scarlett’s POV
The morning of the gala arrived like a drumbeat.
I woke early, though I hadn’t really slept. The ceiling above me was still dusky, the faintest thread of light cutting across the room. My heart was already beating as if it had been awake all night, pacing the length of my chest. For a while, I just lay there, staring at the dress. The midnight silk shimmered against the wardrobe door, soft and silent yet full of promise. I whispered to myself, This is it, Scarlett. This is the day you stop hiding.
Miriam appeared first, carrying a tray of tea and something light to eat. Her expression was softer than usual, less practical, more protective. She set the tray beside me and straightened the covers as though I were a child being fussed over.
“You’ll need your strength,” she m
