Coral’s POV
Coral stood in front of her mirror, hands on her hips, glaring at her reflection. Jason’s instructions had been maddeningly vague—casual but cute, comfortable, but impressive. What did that even mean? After tearing apart her closet and rejecting at least fifteen outfits, she finally settled on something that felt right: high-waisted black jeans with just a touch of distress, a black see-through lace crop top with a matching black fashion bra underneath, and all-black Air Force Ones. Her hair was in a messy bun, her jewelry minimal, and her makeup light but flawless.
She gave herself a final once-over, adjusting the lace of her top before nodding in approval. "Perfect," she whispered to herself.
Heading downstairs, she was immediately intercepted by the resident peanut galle
