20| Rafe

I put on a darker brown blazer over my lighter brown turtleneck, fitted shirt then spray some cedarwood perfume all over me. While setting my hair with my fingers, I think of calling Mona. We haven't talked since I've come to Seattle.

Once I feel like I'm good to go to the formal dinner arranged by Luke Salvatore, I walk out of the room and at the same time search for Mona's name in my phone's contact list.

I click on her number and just about to put my phone on my ear I catch Freya coming out of her room in captivating attire. I stop in my tracks.

This is the second time in a day that I couldn't recognize her at first glance. I cancel the call and put down my phone. I gawk at her, eyes out on stalks.

She's wearing a pretty swing dress, hugging her body as a second skin before belling out from the bottom.

Her earlier fine hair are now assembled into soft locks, cascading down her lower back. When did she grow her hair? She wasn't a long-haired type woman. She preferred shoulder-leng