APRICITY(10)
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT The late afternoon light slanted across Clara’s room. She stood in front of her mirror, holding up the thrifted red dress she had pulled from the back of her wardrobe. It looked different than she remembered. The seams sagged where it should have held shape. The color felt tired, duller than the memory she had kept of it. She slipped it over her head and smoothed the fabric down, tugging it under her matriculation gown to test the fit. The mirror told her what she already knew: it didn’t work. The hem showed awkwardly, the neckline fought against the gown’s collar, and the whole thing just looked… wrong. Clara’s throat tightened. She turned sideways, then back, tugging here and there as if sheer willpower might make it better. But no matter how she adjusted, the ref
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