I stood in front of the boutique’s mirror, my reflection softer than I expected it to be. The silk blouse I wore clung to my shoulders like a second skin, cream with a faint sheen that caught the morning light. Underneath, the bones of me still burned. Everything about today had been rehearsed in my mind for weeks, yet my chest was tight with a different kind of pressure.

The press preview would begin in an hour.

I adjusted the collar, watching the quiet movements of my fingers. Every ...