The woman on my porch froze with one hand pressed against the pale blue skirt.
« I’m sorry? »
« That dress belonged to my daughter. »
I gripped the doorframe as I stared at the five uneven pearls along her left shoulder.
I had sewn them back on after Teresa caught the gown on a fitting-room zipper. There wasn’t another dress with that crooked repair.
« Take it off. »
She reached for the clasp behind her neck.
« I can change in my car. »