It took a full hour of bickering, twirling in front of mirrors, and half-hearted complaints before Amara and I finally settled on the dress.
A silver gown, sleek and elegant, hugged my body like it was made for me. Fine glitter dusted the fabric, catching the light with every step I took. It shimmered like moonlight on water—subtle, but impossible to ignore. The neckline dipped modestly, and the fabric clung to the soft swell of my stomach, barely stating the fact that I was not just glowing—I was growing life.
“I think this is the one,” Amara said, nodding in satisfaction as she adjusted the straps on my shoulders.
I turned slowly in front of the mirror, taking in the transformation. My hair, which Mandy had curled earlier, now flowed down my back in a pin-straight cascade, glossy and
