Chapter 93 —
Im Lina POV
I stare into the illuminated mirror, watching the stylist work with careful, efficient fingers. My freshly cut bob frames my face in a way that still catches me off guard. It's chic, sharp—deliberate.
It actually doesn't look bad, honestly my hair was already really short I was scared to go lower, my fears were clearly unfounded.
The fabric of the dress clings to me in ways I'm not used to. It's sleek, deep crimson, the kind of red that looks expensive even in shadows.
This dress was a compromise, a major one with Emmaline.
The neckline is modest, but the back… gods, the back. It dips so low I've been afraid to fully breathe since I put it on. One wrong move and I might commit accidental indecent exposure.
The stylist moves to pin one last lock into place. I catch a glimpse of my own expression—eyes slightly wide, lips parted in that familiar unsure way. It's not that I look bad.
No.
