Page 332 of Black Reign

Beautiful ones.

Probably absurdly expensive.

I leave them beside the bed.

This field has never known me in shoes.

It seems wrong to start now.

My hair stays down.

No wig.

No straightener.

No attempt to tame it.

Caramel curls tumble down my back and blow wherever the afternoon breeze wants them.

No colored contacts.

No false lashes.

No contouring that changes the shape of my face.

My eyes are blue because my eyes are blue.

My lips are mine.

My skin is mine.

My name is mine.

I stand in front of the little mirror and barely recognize myself.

Not because I look different.

Because I don't.

There is nothing hiding me.

I have worn a hundred faces.

Today, I marry him in my own.

The thought almost stops me.

Marry.

Xavier Blackwell.

Ghost.

I press one hand against my stomach.

“This is strategic,” I whisper to my reflection.

The woman in the mirror looks unconvinced.