Estella’s POV
Christina’s room looked nothing like I’d imagined it. For someone who had always carried herself like a soldier, her space felt… fragile. The pale blue curtains fluttered in the breeze, and framed photographs lined her desk—of a smiling child beside a woman who looked just like her. Sadly, none of them featured an older Christina.
Cali was fixing Christina’s hair for dinner while I stood near the window, looking at the darkening sky. The rain hadn’t stopped since our arrival, and it didn’t look like it would anytime soon.
Christina sat silently, looking blindly at the mirror.
“Christina… May I ask you something?” I said after a while.
She stiffened but nodded.
“What did your stepfather do to you?” I asked softly. “Ever since I met you, you’ve been so strong, so stubborn
