Chapter 4 — The Dress Doesn’t Fit

Claire

The blush pink gown hung from the back of my closet door, catching the late afternoon sunlight that streamed through my window. Its intricate beading shimmered like a thousand tiny stars, the fabric pooling gently at the bottom, soft and ethereal. It was the dress I had spent weeks searching for, the one I had imagined in every dream of prom night. And yet, now, the sight of it made my chest tighten. It felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else—a version of me I wasn’t sure existed anymore.