NESSA ~
The makeup and hair crew came to my room before daybreak.
I heard them before I saw them—the soft murmur of voices in the hallway, the click of heels against stone, the rustle of garment bags and the clatter of makeup cases being set down outside my door.
Then came the knock. Three sharp raps that shattered what little peace I'd managed to find in the predawn darkness.
"Miss Thorne? We're here to prepare you."
Prepare me. Like I was a sacrifice being readied for the altar.
Which, I supposed, wasn't far from the truth.
I didn't answer right away. Just stared at the ceiling, at the water stains that looked like maps of places I'd never go, and tried to remember how to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
"Miss Thorne?"
"Come in," I finally managed, my voice rough from lack of sleep and the tears I'd cried into my pillow.
