Maxine stood back and declared, “That one.”
Robin stood on the platform staring at multiple reflections of herself wearing dress number nineteen thousand three hundred and two. Or maybe just the fifth one. Perhaps it just felt like nineteen thousand or so after all the pictures and websites and magazines and now the trying on. Perhaps she was just remembering the approximate price tag. The five dresses combined probably cost more than she paid for Maxine’s first four semesters.
Sarah walked around the platform, surveying the ivory dress, running her fingers over the intricate beadwork on the long train. “Oh yes,” she breathed. “This one.”
Robin looked in the mirror directly in front of her. The sleeveless bodice almost formed a heart shape and cinched tight at her waist. The skirt flare
