C10 Dinner with the Devil

(POV: Isabela Montoya)

The dress felt like armor, or perhaps a shroud. Heavy silk, the color of bruised plums, fell in severe, elegant lines to the floor. It was beautiful, obscenely expensive, chosen by someone – Camila, under unspoken orders, no doubt – to present the image of a serene, acceptable bride-to-be. Instead, I felt like a sacrificial offering being dressed for the pyre