RENEE
Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I studied my reflection. I didn't resemble Axelle at all—not in the curve of my face but through my clothing and careful attention to detail, I had pieced together something that reflected her.
I was wearing a knee-length nude dress, soft and elegant, with matching heels—a mirror image of what I'd worn the day I died. My hair was styled exactly the same way. Even the accessories were identical.
I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs, though it felt hollow.
Was this what I would always see when I looked at myself? A ghost. A memory. A version of someone already gone.
I bit my lower lip and blinked quickly, willing the tears back. I couldn't afford to smudge my makeup—not now.
