She patted my arm before turning to walk back to her house, leaving her words hanging in the cool afternoon air.
I went back inside the quiet house and walked up the stairs to our bedroom.
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I took out the emerald dress and held it against myself. It felt light, almost weightless, compared to the heavy cottons I usually wore.
I reached into my small jewelry box and took out my mother’s worn pearl earrings. They were small and slightly yellowed with age, but they were the only real jewelry I owned. I clipped them onto my ears, the cold metal pinching my lobes.
“You can do this,” I whispered to myself, looking at the wall. “It is just a dress.”
I stepped into the green silk, pulling it up over my shoulders. The zipper went up easily, the fabric fitting snug against my waist.
