Amelia's eyes widened in horror as she took in my outfit, her gaze lingering on every detail. "Ughmmm, what do you think you're wearing?" she asked, her voice laced with disgust and disappointment. I could feel her disapproval radiating towards me like a palpable force.
I shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. I'd known she'd disapprove, but I'd chosen this outfit for comfort, not style. The soft, worn fabric was like a warm hug, and I'd been looking forward to spending the evening in it. But Amelia's reaction made me question my choice.
Her expression turned stern, her lips pursed in distaste. "No! You are not wearing that, Barbara," she declared, her tone brooking no argument. "You look like a stay-at-home mom with an abusive husband and four kids." Her words stung,
