I pushed open my bedroom door, ready to drop onto the bed and lose myself in the safe monotony of my four walls. But instead of the familiar mess of my unmade bed and scattered books, there it was—a dress spread out perfectly on my duvet like it belonged there.
I froze, my hand still on the doorknob.
It was sleek, floor-length, and in a soft lavender shade that seemed to glow under the light, with delicate lace detailing on the sleeves and neckline. It was the bridesmaid dress for my mother’s upcoming wedding. I recognized it immediately. She had shown me a picture of it a few days ago, all smiles and excitement, asking me to come along for the fitting. I had mumbled something about being busy and conveniently kept forgetting the date. Now, here it was, looking suspiciously tailored to m
