Josie
I stared into the empty, glazed eyes in the mirror, my mind racy with apprehension…
Or was that excitement?
I haven't been able to stop thinking about the way Thorne had asked me to be ready for when he'd come get me.
Marcy's fingers worked like magic behind me as she struggled to fix my white hair.
It was a tangled mess, as I barely paid any attention to it.
It was Saturday afternoon, and although the party wasn't until evening, we'd decided to get started with dressing me up much earlier.
Especially because of the hair—Marcy had carefully curled it a few strands after a few strands. Like that.
And Thorne had stressed severally that he detested lateness.
Marcy set the curler aside and swept the curls atop my head, snapping it together with a gorgeous hairpin.