Evening came and I stood in front of my closet. The black dress is there. It’s simple. It’s not the kind of thing you wear to a mansion in the hills, but it’s what I have.
I pull it out and lay it on the bed. Then I shower, wash my hair, stand in front of the mirror with a makeup bag I barely use. I keep it simple. Concealer for the circles under my eyes. Mascara so I don’t look like I’ve been crying. A soft lip color that’s close to my natural shade.
When I step back, the woman in the mirror looks like she might pass for someone who has her life together.
I pull the dress on. It fits. I add a pair of black heels I haven’t worn in years and a small clutch that holds my phone, my ID, and nothing else.
When I walk into the living room, Eleanor looks up from her book. She studies me for a
