Sophie picked me up at seven sharp.
The town car door swung open like a cue, black paint gleaming under streetlights. She’d texted earlier, Wear black.
So I did.
The dress I chose wasn’t begging for anyone’s attention. It skimmed instead of clung, silk that felt like armor more than skin. The slit hit my knee, no higher. My hair was twisted low, precise, pulling the line of my neck long. Red lipstick, not too bright. Enough to look deliberate.
Sophie didn’t comment when I slid into the back seat. She didn’t have to. Her look swept me once, the way she assessed fabric under light. Approval in silence.
The city blurred past, Chicago at dusk, glass and concrete burning gold, people rushing home from lives that didn’t include ours. Sophie’s perfume filled the car, sharp, citrus with the s
