Chapter 5

Nora's POV

I stared at her, my brows furrowed tight. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I was my parents' daughter. A Brown. Through and through, and nothing was ever going to change that.

"What on earth is that supposed to imply?" I glared at Matilda, wondering where on earth she pulled such a wild thought from.

"I didn’t mean it like that, Nora," she breathed out, backpedaling slightly before pressing on. "I just mean... the resemblance isn't really there. If you're truly their biological daughter, how come you don't take after either of them in any way?"

I paused, my breathing instantly turning ragged. "You just didn't see it. There's a resemblance," I lied, the words tasting hollow in my mouth.

"Is that what you keep telling yourself? Have you ever actually seen the resemblance? Or have you just been too afraid to look at the differences?"

"Okay, Matilda, please just stop. I'll go wherever you want me to go, so just drop the accusations," I waved a hand dismissively, desperate to drag her attention away from the topic.

Except I couldn't get it out of my own head. She actually had a point. I had wondered that exact same thing more times than I could count. Why wasn't I like Mom? Why didn't I inherit Dad's traits? Why didn't our blood types ever line up?

At least one of them should have matched mine, right? But none of them did. I was type AB. Mom always claimed she was type O, and Dad... well, Dad's story changed whenever the topic drifted near it. Sometimes Mom insisted he was type AB, sometimes Dad swore he was type A, and other times they both casually referred to him as AB, completely forgetting they had called him type A the previous time we discussed it.

Back then, I had noticed that conversations about blood groups always brought a strange, heavy awkwardness into the room, so I learned to let it drop. And they never brought it up again. But thinking about it now, a cold seed of doubt bloomed in my chest. What if?

No. They didn't act like kidnappers who had stolen a child, and there weren't any hidden adoption papers tucked away in their files. It all boiled down to the simplest logical answer: they were my parents.

Maybe they just didn't know their own blood types and never bothered to check, or maybe it was just a freak medical quirk. I wasn't going to sit here and spiral into a breakdown over whether my parents were my biological flesh and blood.

I shifted my gaze back to Matilda, only to find her staring at me with a strange, calculating look that made my skin crawl.

"What's with the weird stare?" I cleared my throat uncomfortably. She snapped out of it, blinking rapidly.

“Oh nothing. Just... you kind of reminded me of someone I used to know for a second," she offered a tight, small smile, stood up from her chair, and pivoted toward her closet.

"Anyway! Now that you’ve finally agreed to come with me to Theo’s frat party, let's get you properly dressed. Let me pick a real baddie outfit for you from my stash," she chirped over her shoulder.

I stood up, marched right over to her, slapped my hand across the closet door to stop her, and shot her a warning glare.

"I am not wearing any of your overly revealing clothes." I deadpanned.

"Revealing? You aren't revealing anything, darling! You're just celebrating the magnificent architecture of human anatomy!" She giggled, shoving my hand aside and digging back through the hangers.

My eyes tracked her hands as they brushed past various fabrics until she paused, pulled out a striking crimson dress, and held it up against my frame to check the length. It looked dangerously short. Beautiful, yes, but practically nonexistent. It barely brushed my mid-thighs.

"This is going to fit you like a glove," she squealed, shoving the dress into my arms before rushing over to her shoe rack to grab a pair of chunky black boots.

She checked the time flashing on her phone screen, tossed it onto the mattress, and turned back to me with frantic energy.

"We have two hours max to get you fully transformed, gorgeous. Go take a fast shower, and let me work my magic!" she ordered.

I let out a heavy grunt, staring down at the scandalous red fabric with a deep, uncompromising frown. Grabbing a nude undergarment set and my towel, I turned and marched out toward the general washroom down the hall.

We all shared communal bathrooms in this dorm wing, and while I utterly despised the lack of privacy, I didn't have much of a choice. Moving out here was supposed to grant me freedom, an escape from the suffocating walls of my parents' house.

I had wanted to experience the real world, so I took the bitter with the sweet. By the time I finished my shower, slipped into my undergarments, wrapped the towel snugly around my torso, and walked back into our room, Matilda was already fresh out of the shower. Did I really take that long?

"Took you long enough," she tossed out her signature sarcastic jab, and I rolled my eyes, dropping my toiletries bag.

A notification chimed brightly across the screen of my phone. I picked it up to check the general campus group chat.

“Who’s all heading down to Theo’s place tonight?”

A flurry of enthusiastic yes responses and a string of rowdy messages instantly flooded the chat, capped off by a reminder from the man himself: Theo, dropping a countdown of one hour remaining.

"You saw that, didn't you? So let's stop wasting time and get you ready!" Matilda announced, dropping her phone as she aggressively rubbed lotion onto her arms.

She hauled me over to her vanity mirror, dragged her chair right up to it, and forced me to sit down. She started with my hair, smoothing the strands expertly. After a few minutes of twisting and pinning, she styled it into two soft buns with dark, curling strands artfully framing both sides of my face.

Honestly? It actually looked incredible. Next, she moved on to my face, carefully tracing a sleek liner along my eyelids, shaping my brows into a clean, arched finish, and attaching a set of wispy, natural-looking lashes.

She dusted a light layer of powder across my skin keeping it light enough that my natural complexion still peeked through, which I appreciated.

Finally, she swiped a glossy lip tint across my mouth, turning my lips a soft, flushed pink. I stared at my reflection in mild awe. I actually looked stunning. I should really start wearing makeup more often, I made a mental note.

"You should honestly bow down and thank me for turning you into an absolute goddess," she gushed, staring admiringly at my reflection over my shoulder.

No doubt, the look worked, but she was definitely laying the dramatics on thick. "Now, get your ungrateful ass out of my chair so I can get ready myself," she laughed.

I gently stood up, watching her settle into the vanity seat, and walked over to my bed. I shrugged off my towel, pulled the red dress over my head, and smoothed it down.

Good grief, it was short. Standing up straight, the hemline rested high on my mid-thighs, exactly as I had feared. I tried to tug it down awkwardly, but the fabric refused to budge. The dress was a brilliant crimson, gorgeous in design, but it put my legs completely on display alongside a plunging neckline that highlighted my modest chest.

"Gosh, you look impossibly hot, Nora," Matilda murmured, glancing over her shoulder with genuine amusement before letting out a dramatic pout. "I swear, if I could trade my body for yours, smaller tits, bigger butt, I’d do it in a heartbeat."

I nearly choked on my own spit at her complete lack of filter. How was this girl so effortlessly comfortable tossing around words like that?

"Are you always this brazenly shameless?" I chuckled, shaking my head.