CHAPTER SIXTY

~ Camilla

The Day Of The Gala: 6:42 PM.

I checked the time for the fifth time in three minutes.

He said he’d pick me up at seven. But I was already dressed. Already spiraling. Already pacing my tiny apartment in a floor-length black satin dress that made me feel like a damn impostor in my own skin.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. Hair swept up. Shoulders bare. Earrings sparkling subtly. Neckline just toeing the line between classy and are-you-seriously-wearing-that. My heels made me tall enough to lie about it on dating apps, and the slit up my thigh was doing things to...