Chapter 13

Camille’s POV

“Hold still, please.”

Dr. Miranda Torres’s gloved fingers touched my chin, turning my face toward the light. Her dark eyes studied every curve and angle like she was planning to carve marble.

We sat in her private clinic, hidden behind unmarked doors in a fancy Manhattan building. The room looked more like a spa than a doctor’s office, soft lights, expensive art, no diplomas on the walls. She didn’t need to prove herself. Her client list of celebrities and billionaires did that for her.

“You have excellent bone structure,” she said, letting go of my face. “We won’t need to do as much as I thought.”

I glanced at Victoria, who sat in the corner pretending to read emails but watching everything.

“What exactly are you going to do?” I asked, trying to hide how scared I was.

Dr. Torres touched her screen, and a 3D model of my face appeared on the wall. I stared at the digital me, the woman I’d been for twenty-five years.