Chapter 9

Today felt different.

The kind of difference you can’t explain in words, only in the strange shift you feel in your chest, like the air is thicker, charged with something you can’t quite name.

I stood on the small platform in the middle of the bridal studio, the ivory gown hugging my waist like it had been stitched with my name in mind. The mirror in front of me reflected someone I barely recognized. The woman staring back was sharp, composed, and almost regal. She didn’t look like someone running from her past. She looked like someone in control of it.

The dress flowed effortlessly to the floor, catching the light with a soft shimmer. The lace curled delicately around my arms, almost like vines climbing over skin. I let my fingers brush the fabric, marveling at how something so soft could feel so powerful.

The bridal designer circled me slowly, her hands sure and practiced, adjusting sleeves, tugging fabric, smoothing out invisible imperfections. She looked