The dress was a deep, soft blue, with delicate stitching along the bodice and a skirt that fell just right.
It looked nothing like the sleek designer gowns the other girls were buying at the mall.
« All my friends are wearing dresses from that boutique downtown, » I admitted. « Chloe ordered hers from some designer in the city. »
« And what do you want to wear? »
« Oh, my girl. Look at you. »
I met her eyes in the reflection.
« This one. I want to wear this one. »
Grandma Evelyn pressed her hand against her heart.
For a long moment, she could not speak.
« I started this dress the week after my diagnosis, » she finally said. « Every stitch was a prayer. Every seam was a promise. »
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