CELESTE
The tailor circled me with a string. He didn't ask my opinion or even glance at my face, only measured, tugged and noted something on a pad.
Kyle stood near the corner of the room, arms folded behind her back. She hadn't explained a word since she brought me here.
I fidgeted as the tailor adjusted my shoulders. "Why am I here?" I asked for the third time, glancing at Kyle.
Her expression didn't shift. "Stand straight."
"That is not an answer, Kyle." I muttered, lifting my chin. The tailor pinched the tape tighter around my waist, and I sucked in a breath.
Kyle's cold gaze flicked to me. It was enough to silence me without a word. She returned her eyes to the tailor's work. "It should be perfect."
The tailor stepped back with a frown. "Her figure is… different."
Different. I had grown used to being the "different" one. Different in clothes, in blood, in the way people whispered when they thought I wasn't listening.
