The Missing Emerald
1055 Words
Ava's POV
“No, no, no
This can’t be happening,” I whispered, tearing through my wardrobe.
My Emerald dress had vanished
“Ava!” my mum called out from the hallway.
“The guests are arriving and you’ll be on shortly!”
“Okay!” I called back, though my pulse was already sprinting.
I dove into the bottom shelf, tossing blouses onto the bed in a frenzy.
I could have sworn I saw it two days ago.
I abandoned the wardrobe and yanked open the pink cabinet beside it, shoving through scarves and old sweaters.
Still I couldn't find anything.
The celebratory dinner was starting in fifteen minutes and I wasn’t ready.
My dad was going to throw a fit.
There was nothing he hated more than waiting.
My dad had just closed a billion-dollar deal with an oil and gas company abroad.
The party was being held at our mansion, and all his friends and business associates were there.
I bit my lip as I remembered how many times he’d repeated that I needed to be there on time.
I had brushed him off, promising I would be.
But I’d lost track of time… lost in a novel. Now it was past six, my hair was half pinned, and the one dress that matched tonight’s theme had disappeared.
The knock on my door was almost lost under the rustle of my clothes. I ignored it. My fingers dug deep into the plush carpet as I crouched down, searching under the bed.
The door clicked open anyway.
I didn’t have to look up to know it was Emilia, my elder sister. Vanilla perfume drifted across the room before she did.
I rolled my eyes and glanced up at her.
She wore a sky-blue, off-shoulder, long-sleeved fitted gown that flowed to the floor.
Her blonde hair was in loose curls, and cascaded over her back.
The silver purse matched her silver earrings.
If there was a list of siblings most likely to make you feel underdressed, Emilia would be at the top.
She looked breathtaking, as always.
“What are you looking for?” Emilia asked as she carefully tossed my scattered clothes into the corner before sitting on my bed.
“My emerald dress. It was supposed to match the theme for the party since I’d be playing notes,” I said, frustration evident in my tone.
“Have you seen it?” I asked, trying to sound calm.
She blinked. “Oh.” Guilt crossed her face.
My stomach dropped.
“Wait…no way. You couldn’t have…”
“I’m sorry, Ava. I might have worn it… two days ago.”
She scratched her head nervously. Her smile twitching like she was debating if she should be charming or apologetic.
My eyes narrowed.
“You have to be kidding me, Em.”
She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, her eyes cast down.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d need it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to let me know before you take my clothes?”
I struggled to keep my voice down, my eyes narrowing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking up, her eyes pleading.
“Let me get you something better to wear from mine.”
My arms were crossed over my chest, guarding against whatever excuse she wanted to make.
“I promise to make it up to you whatever you need,” she added with puppy eyes.
“Fine,” I blurted out.
“Make it quick, then.”
I rubbed my palms against my gown as I prepared to go downstairs. I hadn’t been this uncomfortable in a while.
The gown Emilia had given me was tight.
Too tight.
My bust and hips were bigger than hers, so the dress hugged me tightly.
Now, for some girls, that wouldn’t be a problem.
But me, I’ve always loved baggy clothes.
I didn’t like showing off my curves or skin.
It made me feel like a slut.
Emilia had no trouble with hers.
She was slender, and most guys liked slender.
She could pass for a model, and when she showed off skin, it was beautiful.
If you can’t tell by now, she’s the prettier sibling between the two of us.
I drew a deep breath and made my way downstairs.
The silk red fabric flowed around me as I walked.
My dark hair was swept up in a loose band, framing my face and emphasising my red lips.
The gown hugged my curves perfectly, showing a daring off-shoulder neckline.
As I arrived at the ballroom, I could hear the gasps and murmurs of awe.
This was probably the first time I had ever truly dressed up.
The room buzzed with people chatting in groups to the backdrop of calm classical music.
I even saw my dad’s chin drop slightly.
“You look gorgeous, honey,” my mum said, pecking my cheek and giving me a warm hug.
“Thanks, Mum,” I chuckled nervously.
Her peach gown was the definition of simple yet elegant, a fishtail beauty that flowed as she walked.
She paraded me around the room, introducing me to everyone she had invited.
I happened to bump into my sister while my mum was speaking to Mrs Lancaster from the Lancaster Group.
“Having fun?” my sister smirked, taking a sip of her wine.
“When does it end?” I sighed, exasperated.
“It doesn’t,” she giggled.
“Enjoy the fun. I’m going to go have some fun.”
She sashayed away.
I rolled my eyes, knowing what she meant.
She had been sneaking around with men my dad never approved of before he could marry her off to someone “in our class,” probably one of his elite friends’ sons.
The whole idea made me sick.
I couldn’t imagine being shipped off for business purposes.
I was beyond glad I wasn’t the first daughter otherwise, I probably would have run away.
Sometimes I felt like we were just mergers to my dad.
I brushed off the thought, my eyes scanning the room as I silently plotted my escape from my mum and her guests.
That was when a man’s voice rang out in the ballroom.
“Let’s welcome Ava Morgan to play her piece.”
- Writer
