Chapter Forty-Eight: Painted Perfection

Chapter Forty-Eight: Painted Perfection

FLORA WHITMORE

I sat in front of the mirror, my face grim and unreadable. My reflection stared back at me, flawless, perfect, untouchable. The silver necklace on my neck glimmered under the soft bedroom light, its shine kissing my collarbone. My gown, red, o...

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