The mirror reflected a version of myself I barely recognized.

The lavender gown flowed around my ankles like a flower blooming from bus flared, elegant, timeless. It had once belonged to my mother, and tonight, it belonged to me. The fabric hugged my waist, then fanned out softly, and the heart-shaped neckline dipped gently just above my breasts. It was off-shoulder, revealing the curve of my collarbones, the pale slope of my neck, and a delicate line of skin that made me feel both beautiful and completely exposed. My hands trembled as I adjusted the fabric nervous fingers brushing against my own skin.