The door slams behind her with enough force to make the walls tremble. I don't flinch. I just watch Kiara as she stalks closer, her heels striking the polished floor like a countdown to something inevitable.
Gone is the smiling, tipsy sister playing at harmless charm. What's left is a predator cloaked in silk, her crimson gown pooling around her like a sea of blood. The gold trim glints in the low light, but it's her sharp green eyes that catch me—the way they flick over me, dissecting, calculating, finding every possible weakness.
"Well," she says finally, her voice like the slow scrape of a blade against stone. "Aren't you full of surprises?" She takes off her mask.
I lean back against the sink, my fingers curling around its edge like it's the only thing keeping me tethered.
