I thought Graham Pierce saved me. After a crash destroyed my face, he rebuilt me himself. 

When I could not get used to my new face, he would hold my face and whisper, “Elena, you are my greatest masterpiece. 

My finest work of art.” I thought that was love. Then, on our wedding day, I saw a masked woman take off her mask. 

Her face was exactly like mine. 

She was Violet, his first love, the woman he never got over. 

And I was the copy he made when he thought the real one was gone.