Page 73 of Power Play

Would she notice his intelligence before the tattoos? Would she hear Spanish and wonder where he learned English? Would foster care become concern disguised as curiosity?

I hated myself for thinking it.

Ryan had already thought it too.

My appetite disappeared.

I moved pieces of salmon around while my mother talked about Caroline’s dress.

Valentina’s smelled like perfume, new fabric, and money.

Gabriella greeted my mother by name the second we walked through the door.

“Crystal, you look stunning.”

“You’re sweet.” My mother kissed her cheek before motioning toward me. “You remember Charmagne.”

Gabriella clasped my hands.

“How could I forget? Look at you. You’ve gotten so tiny.”

The compliment landed directly in the place I had spent years training it to reach.

My mother smiled. “She has.”

I smiled too.

Gabriella led us into a private fitting room where dresses already hung from a brass rack beneath warm lighting. Emerald, navy, ivory, black, and a soft rose shade my mother dismissed immediately because Caroline’s gown apparently contained pink.

I reached toward the navy dress. “This is beautiful.”

“It was my favorite for you,” Gabriella said.

Crystal studied the rack. “Try the ivory first.”

My hand left the navy. “All right.”

The dressing room held three mirrors and enough lighting to make hiding from myself impossible.

I removed my blouse and immediately saw my stomach.

The shape looked different from the bathroom at home. Worse somehow.

I turned sideways and saw ribs.

That should have made me feel thinner.

Instead, my thighs looked too full beneath the silk shorts.

The contradictions didn’t matter.

My brain accepted both.

“Charmagne?” my mother called through the curtain. “Need help with the zipper?”

“I’ve got it.”

I stepped into the ivory gown.