“That’s a lovely choice.” Claudette lifts it carefully from the bed.
A few minutes later, she’s helping me into it, guiding the fabric over my hips and fastening the corset back while I try not to think too hard about the fact that this is actually happening.
When I step toward the full-length mirror, I can’t help but grin.
The dress fits better than I expected, the lace hugging my waist before falling softly around my legs in a way that feels elegant without being too much. Claudette studies my reflection.
“You know…” she says from behind me. “I think this is the one.”
“Yeah.” I keep staring at myself, my smile growing. “I think this is the one too.”
I don’t even bother trying on the others. The second I decide, the women get to work adjusting the hem, pinning and measuring until everything sits exactly right before helping me slip it off so they can finish altering it properly.
Tonight, I’ll be married. My life will look nothing like I once thought it would.
Part of me wonders if I’ll ever be able to be honest with anyone about who I am now, about the life I’m stepping into. If I can even tell Mandy.
Then again, she’d probably think the whole thing was wild and romantic and shrug it off like it’s nothing.
Then there’s Milo. I haven’t even told him I’m getting married. He’s still young enough that I’m not sure he’d care all that much, but that doesn’t change what this means. It will shape his life too, tying him to a world far more dangerous than the one he came from.
And still, somewhere deep down, I know I’m making the right choice. Even if Kirill didn’t exactly leave me one.
Hours pass before the women finally leave. The dress hangs in the closet while I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and hoping Kirill’s plan for Eli goes smoothly, and that once it’s over we can all finally breathe a little easier.
I roll onto my side and close my eyes, trying to quiet my mind, when my phone suddenly buzzes on the nightstand. The sound makes me jump.
I reach for it, expecting maybe Kirill or Mandy, but the second I see the screen, a groan slips out of me.
Camille.
Just ignore her.
She’s probably calling to tell me what a shit mother I am for being with Kirill, and I have no desire to hear it. But then a small knot of worry forms because even after everything she’s said to me, after the way she’s treated me, some part of me wonders if something’s wrong.
I shouldn’t care. She’s never cared about me. But I’m not her.
“Hello?”
“Sloane.” Her voice comes through rushed and uneven. I’ve never heard my sister like this.
“What’s wrong?” I sit up so fast the bed creaks.
“Eli… H-he was just here.”
My whole body goes cold. “What?”
“He came asking all kinds of questions about you.” She exhales harshly. “Asking if I knew where you’re living. If you’ve taken Milo back. He kept accusing me of lying, and then—” Shebreaks off, sucking in a shaky cry. “He threw me against the wall. I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No, no, I-I’m fine. Just scared.” She pauses. “But I didn’t say anything, okay? I wouldn’t.”
A rush of gratitude hits me. “Thanks.”
“He was going to go upstairs to check if Milo was there, but I told him Milo was sick and he shouldn’t scare him.”
My heart rate batters while images flash through my mind and I recall the way Eli’s temper would explode without warning. The things I’ve seen him do when someone gets in his way.
