More Complicated

Meliza's POV

"Dinner is ready. Your friends are already waiting for you—actually, everyone is waiting for you."

I turned my head slightly as my mother stepped into my room, her voice gentle yet firm. She found me standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

A stranger looked back at me, dressed in a gown that I didn't choose, preparing for a life that wasn't mine.

"You're always beautiful, Iza," she murmured, stepping closer. "You don't need any makeup." Her fingers brushed through my hair, a touch so light it almost felt unfamiliar.

I should have felt comforted. I used to feel comforted by her presence. But not tonight. Not anymore.

I took a slow breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that had haunted me for years.

"What happened to the baby?" I asked; a defending silence followed as my mother stilled beside me, her reflection in the mirror flickering with unease.