SAGE

I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.

I stood before the mirror, unmoving, my reflection staring back at me with a calm confidence I possessed. The room was quiet, dawn creeping in slowly from the edges of the world, and still I couldn’t look away.

The wardrobe had offered me only dresses—flowing and elegant, meant for bodies like this one. I wore one now, pale and soft, the fabric clinging in places it never used to, skimming curves I hadn’t fully accepted as mine. My wig rested in my hands, familiar, grounding.

My real hair fell down my back in a long, silken cascade—white as snow,...