Amelia’s POV:
I whip around, seeing Mia with one hand on her hip, head tilted back just enough to make it seem like she's looking down on everything around her. She’s dressed to perfection, sporting breakneck stilettos, flawless makeup, and a tight mini dress that clings to every curve.
Next to her is a girl I don’t recognize.
“Having fun being me, you phony?” She mocks. I can’t mistake the look on her face. It says she has something up her sleeve.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up immediately. Yet I can’t show any sign of unease, or she’ll take it as a green light to push further. You know, there’s always that thing where once someone gets a taste of control, they start thinking they own the place.
I quickly pull myself together, drawing a tissue from the box on the counter a
