Ximena's POV
The salon clock shows evening hours by the time Demi puts the finishing touches on my hair. Golden sunlight streams through the windows, painting everything in warm amber tones.
I cannot tear my gaze away from the mirror.
The person staring back feels like a stranger.
Soft layers frame my features, making my hazel eyes appear brighter. Instead of the tangled mess I usually twist into a bun, glossy waves flow past my shoulders with an elegance I never knew I possessed.
My chest constricts.
I have spent years perfecting the art of invisibility, hiding behind shapeless clothes and unkempt hair. This version of myself feels exposed.
Terrifying, actually.
Glenda practically bounces beside me. "Ximena, you are absolutely radiant. Look at yourself!"
I nibble my bottom lip, anxiety churning in my belly. "It feels like too much."
"It feels perfect," she corrects firmly. "Tonight marks the beginning of a brand new chapter for you."
