By the time evening came, Lana had already changed her outfit three times.
Nothing felt right.
Too formal — like she was hiding.
Too casual — like she didn’t care.
Too elegant — like she was trying too hard.
In the end, she settled for something simple. Something neutral. Something that wouldn’t betray the storm inside her chest.
She stood in front of the mirror for a long moment before leaving.
Her reflection looked composed.
Calm.
Put together.
Only her eyes gave her away.
But she straightened her shoulders anyway.
“No more running,” she whispered to herself. “Not this time.”
And with that, she left.
--
The drive to her sister’s house felt longer than usual.
Every turn of the road seemed to echo one single thought:
He will be there.
Her hands tightened slightly on the s
