he said as he finished. “All done. Look in the mirror, Tate. Or should I call you Tatiana?”
“As you wish, Sir,” I murmured, standing and moving in front of the full-length mirror where he directed me.
Jesus Christ. Who was this person looking back at me? James had turned me into a caricature of myself. It was a vision of a lost and confused boy/man/girl/woman with wide smoky eyes, full red lips, and the ghost of a beard beginning to show. I couldn’t stop staring.
– Beyond the Edge, Chapter 21