Shadows of You

Chapter 2

Luna Wren's POV

I walked to the balcony door, my bare feet skimming the cool hardwood floors. My heartbeat in my chest like a ticking clock-steady, insistent, impossible to ignore. I knew I shouldn't. Knew my mother would have a fit if she found out. But I reached into the drawer of my vanity and grabbed the pack of cigarettes I kept hidden beneath a stack of old papers.

Sliding open the balcony door, I stepped outside, the winter air sharp and cool against my skin. My school uniform, still hanging from earlier in the day, felt oddly stifling even though I'd loosened the tie. Leaning against the railing, I lit the cigarette, the flame catching with a quick flick of my wrist.

The first drag burned my throat, familiar and oddly comforting. It wasn't about the taste or even the nicotine. It was the ritual of it-the stillness, the illusion of control. Smoking was a rebellion my mother would never suspect, one of the few things I could claim as my own.

I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling into the night sky.

"You know that'll kill you, right?"

Startled, the cigarette slipped through my fingers landing on the concrete below. I spun around to see my mother standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and an unimpressed look plastered across her face.

"I wasn't—" I stared, but my mother waved a hand to cut me off.

"Save it. We'll deal with this later," my mother said briskly. "Right now, you need to get ready. The Wellington's will be here soon."

My stomach twisted at the mention of their name. "Already?"

My mother gave me a pointed look. "Yes, already. And for God's sake, don't embarrass us tonight. Julian is going out of his way to help you with Columbia. The least you can do is make a good impression."

I bit back a retort and nodded instead. "Fine."

My mother stepped back into the room, muttering something about the time, and I took one last glance at the sky before returning back inside.

******

Back in my room, I sifted through the collection of dresses hanging neatly in my closet. My fingers brushed over the emerald-green dress my mother had bought for tonight, and I sighed. It was beautiful, no doubt, but it felt like armor—designed to make me someone I wasn't.

I slipped into the dress, the fabric cool against my skin, and turned toward the mirror. For a moment, I just stared, trying to see myself through someone else's eyes. Would Julian even notice me? Did I want him to?

I thought about him as I worked a pair of pearl studs into my ears. Julian Wellington—the golden boy. We'd grown up in the same circle of wealth and privilege, attending the same events, smiling for the same photos. But while Julian had always seemed so at ease, I had felt like an outsider in my own life.

Still, I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember. He was charming, handsome, and entirely out of reach.

My lips curved into a wry smile as I applied a coat of lipstick. Out of reach. That was the story of my life.

*****

Dinner was as formal and as stifling as I had expected.

The Wellington's arrived right on time, sweeping into the grand dining room with an air of effortless confidence. Julian looked exactly how I remembered him—sharp suit, easy smile, and eyes that were a gentle shade of blue, like the quiet stretch of the ocean meeting the horizon.

We sat at the long, polished table, where my mother played the perfect hostess, laughing at Mr. Wellingtons stories and complimenting Mrs. Wellington's Jewelry. My father chimed in occasionally, but he mostly left the conversation to my mother.