"In front of the world, I was a bride; inside, I was a prisoner."
—Ava Carter Reed
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Ava's Point of View
I sat alone in the bride's dressing room, quiet, waiting. Unsure of what I would do now. Dylan had skipped the wedding earlier, so that meant he defaulted on the contract, right? It wasn't me. If I walked out of here right now, surely I wouldn't be held accountable.
My fingers dug into the fabric of my gown, wrinkling the white silk. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back looked nothing like me, her cheeks powdered smooth, lips painted a shade too bold, eyes outlined to perfection. But beneath the veil and makeup, I saw the same broken girl who carried the world on her shoulders.
