Chapter 22 The Worst Critic

I stared at myself in the vanity mirror.

“Blossom, this is insane,” I said, reaching up to touch one of the tiny porcelain flower pins tucked into the intricate braid wrapping around the top of my head like a crown. “I look like I’m about to walk down an aisle, not have breakfast.”

“Nonsense,” Blo...

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