Victoria's POV
I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing my skirt for what felt like the hundredth time. The fabric wasn't luxurious, but it was neat, and for now, that would have to be enough. My white blouse, pressed to perfection, was modest but professional. The pencil skirt hugged my frame just right, but I still felt out of place, as though my reflection wasn't truly me.
For years, I'd been wrapped in silks and satins, accessorized with diamonds that glittered under the slightest light. Now, I was wearing the best I could afford—a stark reminder of how far I had fallen.
I straightened my shoulders, trying to shake off the thought. Today wasn't about the past. Today was about proving to myself—and to the world—that I could stand on my own two feet.