The stairs curved down in a graceful sweep, opening up into the grand foyer. The morning sun poured through the skylight, turning the marble floor into a sheet of glittering white.
Clora walked down the steps slowly, her hand trailing lightly along the banister. The white dress seemed to glow in the sunlight. Every step was deliberate, every movement graceful. She felt the change in the air the moment she hit the landing.
The living room was occupied. Essex was sitting on the leather sofa, a cup of black coffee in his hand. Across from him, lounging in the armchair, was a man she knew all too well.
Zane Kessler. Essex's only real friend. A trust-fund baby with a pretty face and a nasty mouth. In her last life, Zane had been a constant thorn in her side, making snide comments about her looks, her clothes, her attitude. He had thought she was an embarrassment to the Langley name.
Zane was in the middle of a story, his hands moving wildly as he talked. "And then the guy actually tried to-"
His voice cut off. Essex had looked up.
Essex's gaze had drifted toward the stairs, a casual movement. But the second his eyes landed on Clora, his hand froze halfway to his mouth. The coffee cup hung in the air. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face before it went blank.
Zane noticed his friend's distraction. He twisted in his chair, following Essex's line of sight.
He looked up at the stairs and his jaw literally dropped. The magazine he had been holding slipped out of his fingers and hit the floor with a soft slap.
He saw a girl in a white dress. Her hair was pulled back, showing off a delicate neck and perfect features. She looked like a debutante, a princess, a goddamn angel walking down the stairs. She was stunning. Breathtakingly so.
Zane's brain stuttered. His first thought wasn't that this was a new person, but one of sheer, unadulterated shock. Wait... is that... Parrish? The eyes were the same, that piercing green, and the shape of her face was familiar under all the makeup he was used to. But the transformation was so complete, so staggering, that his mind refused to accept it for a second.
Clora ignored him. She walked past the living room entrance, her eyes straight ahead, heading for the dining room.
Zane watched her go, his eyes wide. Then he let out a low whistle, turning back to Essex with a disbelieving grin. "Damn, Essex. What did you do, hire a fairy godmother? I barely recognized the little punk."
He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Smart move. Seriously, every time I looked at her before, I thought I was at a Halloween party. That black shit around her eyes? Disgusting. You finally got her to clean up her act."
The smile on Zane's face was smug. He thought he was complimenting Essex on taming a wild animal.
Essex's face didn't change. He just slowly lowered his coffee cup to the table. The soft clink of the porcelain was the only sound in the room. He looked at Zane, his eyes flat and cold.
Clora had stopped at the dining room doorway. She didn't turn around, but her voice drifted back, clear and calm.
"Mr. Kessler. Speaking ill of people behind their backs is a terrible habit. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"
Zane blinked. The voice was familiar. It was smooth, cultured, and icy cold. He sat up straighter, confirming his suspicion.
"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it," he called out, trying to be charming. "It's a huge improvement."
Clora turned around. She looked at him, her expression blank. "I'm hungry," she said simply.
Then she looked past Zane, directly at Essex. "I'm hungry," she repeated, her tone shifting. It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact, delivered with the expectation that it would be fulfilled.
Zane's smile froze on his face. The voice. The attitude. The way she talked to Essex like she had every right to demand things from him. He stared, finally processing the full picture. The makeup was gone, the ugly clothes were gone, but the defiance was still there, just packaged differently. It was undeniably her.
He pointed a shaking finger at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "It... it really is you... Clora Parrish."
Clora just looked at him, one eyebrow raised. It was a look that said, Are you really that slow?
She didn't bother to answer. She just turned and walked into the dining room, leaving Zane looking like he had just seen a ghost.
