The mirror didn’t lie.

I looked at the woman staring back at me and almost didn’t recognize her. The veil framed my face in soft lace, blurring my features like a dream. The gown clung to me, heavy, suffocating, each bead on the fabric weighing me down like tiny chains. The red lipstick Zoe had insisted on made my lips curl into a stranger’s smile.

The reflection told the truth I was trying to bury.

This wasn’t me.

This was Zoe Rodriguez.

My twin’s name wrapped around me like a ...