Zoe's POV
The girl staring back at me from the mirror wasn't me.
Not really.
She was flawless.
Every strand of fiery red hair was pinned into place, twisted carefully into a loose, elegant low bun that rested just above the nape of her neck. A few curled wisps framed her face exactly the way Chloe always wore them, soft enough to look effortless, deliberate enough to fool anyone who wasn't looking closely.
Even the fading roots had disappeared beneath clever styling.
No trace of my brown hair remained.
No trace of Zoe Hawkins.
Only Chloe.
Again.
I swallowed.
The last time I'd looked into this mirror wearing someone else's face, I'd believed it was temporary.
Just until the competition ended.
Even now that my sister was back. Now that Chloe was alive. I never thought I'd do this again.
But here I was.
Becoming her all over again.
Not for a runway.
Not for judges.
Not for fame.
But to walk into a prison...
