Tegan’s grin was huge as she skipped over to me. With both hands, she gathered the curly mass of my hair, twisted it, and piled it on top of my head. “I’ll do your hair and nails. You’re going to look incredible. Ian won’t know what hit him.” Her expression changed, uncertainty clouding her eyes. “I’m kind of feeling sorry for both Ian and Laney. Because when Malachi sees you in this—”

My eyes met hers in the mirror. “What?”

She bit her lip. “Malachi is going with Laney to prom. They’re riding with all of us in that stretch SUV Greg rented.”

I squirmed to pull my hair away from Tegan’s hands. It fell over my shoulders and down my back, and I leaned forward so that it hid my face from her. “I knew she’d asked him.” But I had selfishly hoped he’d say no. “I’m glad he said yes.” So glad that it feels like my heart is being crushed in a vice.

Tegan chuckled. “She texted me half an hour ago. I’ve never seen so many exclamation points in my life.” She pulled a lock of my hair out from under the strap of my dress. “She said he looked good, by the way. I guess it seemed worse this morning, what with all the blood.”

I pretended to fiddle with the silvery waistline of the dress. “That’s good.”

“The timing was interesting, wasn’t it?” said Tegan. “A few hours after you say yes to Ian, Malachi finally gives Laney the answer she wanted?”

“Coincidence.” And even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t afford to think too hard about it. I raised my head and turned to her. “Thanks for this.”

Her gaze strayed down my arm and lit on the tattoo there, on the beautiful face of Nadia inked on the inside of my forearm. Tegan had been shocked when she saw it as I tried on my first dress. She’d stared at it for a long minute, looking like she was about to cry.

That was her, she whispered. That’s how she looked. And then she’d changed the subject.

Now, she touched it lightly with the tip of her finger. “I laughed at Nadia when she said I would like you if I ever gave it a chance.” She smiled sadly and then shook her head, like she was trying to shed the grief. “Anyway, she was right.”