Chapter EightOnce home, I tidy up a bit and make myself something quick to eat. No sooner am I done eating, than the doorbell rings. That’ll be the dresses. Weird, I’ve never had someone visit my house to show me clothes before.
“Hi,” I say, opening the door.
The girl outside looks a bit flustered, with a large selection of gowns wrapped in plastic in her arms. She just about makes it inside the house without dropping any of them and I decide to help before she has a mishap.
“I’m sorry, we should really have a clothes rail or something for these kind of visits. But it doesn’t happen all that often,” she says, eyeing me curiously.
I realize I must look quite different to her usual clientele. Though I may live in the local area, my house is fairly modest, as is my wardrobe. I don’t fit i
