Who is this girl? I silently ask the mirror. Because I don’t recognize her with the inch-thick makeup and the poker-straight hair. Despite the fact that I signed my name in blood on the dotted line of Alberto’s contract, I’ll never be Aurora Visconti. I’ll always be Rory Carter from Devil’s Dip. The Rory who wears her hair curly and lives in Lululemon and sneakers. Who can start a fire with a soda can and can identify over three hundred birds by their tweets alone.
