Chương 6
More if lace sections had to be replaced.
Potentially much more if the silk had chemically weakened.
I asked for everything in writing.
Emily looked at me.
Nora did too.
I felt suddenly self-conscious.
“My sister caused the damage.”
Nora’s expression did not change.
“I see.”
“We’re documenting it.”
“Smart.”
That was all she said.
No lecture.
No fascination.
No request for the family story.
She printed an intake form, photographed the gown from several angles, and had both Emily and me sign the condition sheet.
By the time we left, the dress was hanging behind a locked workroom door.
Emily stood on the sidewalk for nearly a minute without speaking.
Cars moved through the intersection.
Someone across the street was dragging a sandwich-board sign onto the sidewalk.
A delivery driver dropped a stack of plastic trays and cursed loudly enough to make Emily glance over.
Normal people were having a normal Monday.
“I feel ridiculous,” she said.
“For what?”
“For caring this much.”
I looked at her.
She laughed softly and wiped beneath one eye before a tear could fall.
“I know it’s fabric.”
“It’s not just fabric.”
“That sounds like something people say when they’re trying to be nice.”
“It’s something I’m saying because I watched you show me that picture of your mom about fifteen times.”
“Twelve.”
“Fifteen.”
“Twelve.”
I smiled.
She almost did.
Then she looked through the bridal shop window at the garment bag disappearing into the back room.
“She would have been furious.”
“Your mom?”
“She hated bullies.”
Emily shoved her hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt.
“Which was ironic because she could be terrifying.”
“I wish I’d met her.”
“You would have overtalked each other.”
“Probably.”
“She would’ve liked you.”
The words should have comforted me.
Instead, I thought about the patio and the laughter.
“Would she still?”
Emily glanced at me.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“What you do now.”
We walked to the car.
At noon, I logged into work from Rachel’s dining table.
My manager asked why I was not on camera.
I told him we had a family emergency.
He said, “Hope everything’s okay,” in the tone people use when they are already thinking about the next agenda item.
For forty-five minutes, I discussed quarterly vendor costs while Emily and Rachel sat on the balcony comparing emergency dress options.
Every few minutes, I heard phrases through the glass.
Too shiny.
Wrong neckline.
Absolutely not.
That looks like a tablecloth.
Their ordinary criticism was strangely comforting.
Then my phone lit up with a message from Nathan.
Call me when you can.
I waited until the meeting ended.
He answered immediately.
“Did you know Ashley filmed it?”
My stomach tightened.
“Filmed what?”
“The dress.”
“What do you mean?”
“She recorded herself taking it from the room.”
I stood.
The chair scraped against the floor.
Rachel looked through the balcony door.
I turned away.
“How do you know?”
“She sent it to a group chat.”
“What group chat?”
“Her friends.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“What’s in the video?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Mike.”
“What’s in it?”
“She’s upstairs talking to the camera.”
“And?”
“She says she’s going to teach Emily to stop acting like she owns the place.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“Then what?”
“She walks downstairs with the dress.”
“Did she record throwing it in?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“The video ends on the patio.”
“How did you get it?”
“One of her friends sent it to me.”
“Why?”
“Because Ashley told everyone last night that it was an accident.”
I looked through the glass.
Emily was holding up a photograph of a dress on Rachel’s phone.
She did not know yet.
“Nathan, save the video.”
“I did.”
“Do not post it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Do not send it to anybody except me.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t tell Mom yet.”
There was a pause.
“Why?”
“Because I want to talk to Ashley first.”
“You think she’ll admit it?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
I looked at the clock on Rachel’s microwave.
Because part of me still wanted to give my sister one clean opportunity to tell the truth.
Because I needed to know whether she could.
Because the difference between a vicious impulse and a planned humiliation mattered to me, even if the damage looked the same in the pool.
“I need to hear what she says.”
Nathan sighed.
“Fine.”
Then he added, “Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“She says something else in the video.”
I closed my eyes.
“What?”
“She says Mom will make you forgive her.”
For several seconds, I heard nothing except the faint noise of traffic through the balcony glass.
Nathan’s voice dropped.
“I thought you should know.”
I sat back down.
“Send it.”
The video arrived thirty seconds later.
I did not play it immediately.
I watched the thumbnail instead.
Ashley stood in my parents’ guest room holding Emily’s garment bag.
Her smile was wide.
Behind her, on the dresser, was the framed photograph Emily kept of herself and her mother at the bridal boutique.
I had not even known she had placed it there.
When Emily came inside, I locked my phone.
She studied my face.
“What happened?”
“Nothing with the dress.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Rachel remained by the balcony door.
She looked from me to Emily.
I hated the next thirty seconds before they happened.
I hated being the person bringing one more wound into the room.
“There’s a video.”
Emily went completely still.
“Of the pool?”
“Before.”
She sat slowly.
I told her what Nathan had told me.
I did not repeat Ashley’s words exactly.
Emily asked for the phone.
I hesitated.
“Michael.”
I handed it to her.
She watched the video once.
There was no sound from her except the audio playing through the speaker.
Ashley’s voice was bright and playful.
“Look at this stupid thing.”
She turned the camera toward the garment bag.
May you like
“Princess Emily told me not to touch it, so obviously now I have to.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
