have time.” It was a kind gesture, but it was hollow. We all knew that delicate lace and intricate beadwork don’t survive a chlorine soak followed by the weight of several gallons of water.
Natalia didn’t even look at the dress. She looked at my family, her gaze lingering on each person who had watched and done nothing. “The wedding is in five days,” she repeated quietly. My father sighed, his hands in his pockets. “Then we’ll just rent another one, son. It’s just a dress. Let’s not let this
