The dawn's early light crept into my room, casting a soft glow on the chaos of clothes strewn across the floor and my bed. My mother, with her gentle hands and soothing presence, was there, trying to help me find something to wear for my first day at Rossi Enterprises.
I felt a knot in my stomach, a mix of nerves and fear, as I sifted through the options. Then, my hand brushed against the fabric of a dress that seemed to promise comfort in its simplicity. It was a modest black top with ruffled sleeves that added a touch of elegance without being too bold, paired with high-waisted trousers in a burnt orange hue that spoke of quiet confidence. The outfit was completed with a pair of black strappy heels and a small, patterned clutch.
(Photo from google)
Standing in front of the mirror, I saw a reflection of myself-not just Amara Greco, the pawn in a power play, but a young woman determined to hold onto her identity. The outfit was simple, yet it made me feel grounded and ready to face the unknown.
"Mom, do you think this will be okay?" I asked, seeking her validation.
She stepped forward, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "You look wonderful, Amara. It's perfect," she assured me, her voice a familiar melody of support.
With a deep breath, I nodded, feeling a bit more fortified against the day ahead. "Thank you, Mom," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'm ready to go."
As I stood there, my mother reached out, her hands finding mine. She clasped them tightly, pulling me into a hug that felt like a safe harbor in the storm of my emotions. Her embrace was a reminder of the bond we shared, one that went beyond words and gestures.
She was the older version of myself, with jet-black hair that framed her face like a midnight cascade, and eyes the color of the summer sky. Her nose was small and delicate, a perfect complement to her lips, which were always curved in a gentle, inviting smile, as if they were made for laughter and comfort.
We were of the same mold, her at 5'2" and me just a hair taller. Standing together, we could have been mistaken for twins, separated only by the passage of time.
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Their Little Girl
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