Destiny's POV
I had gone through more surgeries than I could count. Each time I looked in the mirror, I saw pieces of myself slowly returning, and with them came both relief and exhaustion. My father had spent a fortune on my recovery, determined to restore what I had lost.
"Dad, I look fine now," I said softly one evening as we sat across from each other at the long dining table. The golden light from the chandelier bathed the room in warmth, but I could still see the worry etched deeply on his face. "I don't want another surgery. I'm tired, and honestly, I've had enough. Red will always love me no matter what I look like."
