Chapter 4 - The Night of the Transformation
For forty-eight hours, I barely slept.
While Brianna spent her afternoons getting spray tans and acrylic nails, I stayed locked in my room with Mom’s silver shears.
I carefully cut away every inch of the hideous mustard brocade. I stripped off the scratchy brown ribbon and sliced through the crooked layers of stiff tulle.
Underneath the ugly disguise lay Julian Vance's masterpiece: a floor-length gown of liquid champagne silk that draped like water. But Alexis had ruined parts of the upper bodice when she hastily tacked the cheap brocade onto it with thick, careless stitches.
I pulled out Mom’s spools of metallic silver thread.
Using a hidden embroidery technique Mom had taught me when I was twelve, I hand-stitched delicate silver ivy vines over every damaged area of the bodice. I reinforced the waistline, adjusted the neckline into a classic, elegant drop-shoulder, and restored the hidden silver embroidery inside the sleeve.
Across the front panel of the inner bodice, right over my heart, I hand-stitched my mother’s signature in silver thread, mirroring her handwriting from her old sketchbooks: Claire Bennett.
By Saturday evening, my hands were raw, my eyes were burning, but the dress was finished.
Downstairs, the house was buzzing with activity. Logan Pierce had arrived in his rented vintage convertible. Dad was taking dozens of photos of Brianna in her sparkling ice-blue gown while Alexis adjusted her corsage, beaming like a proud queen.
"Lily!" Dad called up the stairs, his voice tinged with impatience. "Your friends are outside! Come down so we can take one group picture before you leave!"
I stood in front of my full-length mirror.
May you like
The champagne silk clung to my waist and flowed around my feet like starlight. The silver ivy vines caught the light with every breath I took. I looked powerful, elegant, and entirely like my mother’s daughter.
I took a deep breath, opened my door, and walked down the stairs.
