When I woke up the next morning I felt awful.
I wasn’t embarrassed or worried. Awful was really the only word I could think of to describe it.
I emerged from the bathroom and when Brooke caught sight of me she froze.
“Victoria…”
“I know.”
I was standing in the living room with my naturally poker-straight hair and without the contact lenses which changed the color of my eyes.
“We don’t have time for this, please go and get ready.”
I looked down at the floor and turned away, dragging myself back to the bathroom.
When I stood in front of the mirror I froze.
It was exactly what had happened the last time I looked in the mirror.
I couldn’t bring myself to put in those stupid colored contact lenses or to style my hair.
I didn’t want to erase Heather. I wasn’t ready to let go of my pa
