CASSANDRA'S POV~
The day had arrived.
And it felt nothing like a celebration.
It felt like a nightmare I’d been yanked into by force.
I sat in front of the large ornate mirror, my body still as stone while several hands fluttered around me—zipping, clipping, adjusting. The stylists moved carefully, their fingers tucking me into the white gown like I was some delicate porcelain doll they were too afraid would shatter.
But I was already shattered.
They kept exchanging glances through the mirror. Silent, awkward looks. Like they didn’t know whether to comment or just pretend they weren’t witnessing the slow unraveling of a soul. My face—God, my face—looked like I’d been drained of all life. Pale. Hollow. My eyes unfocused, lips unmoving.
Not once did I smile.
One of the women adjusted
