Before I know it, the curtain flies open, and she gives me a look meant only for me, with everybody else behind her so they can’t see how she really is. “What’s the problem?” she murmurs through clenched teeth. Yet her brows draw together when she looks in the mirror and sees what I see. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.” The dress is cut so low that my scar is clearly visible.

“I really don’t want everybody seeing it,” I whisper. Please, be my mother for once.

“Of course, you don’t. Neither do I.” She wipes away the disgust on her face quickly, but not quick enough that I miss it. She thinks I’m disgusting and doesn’t want something so ugly ruining her big day. It shouldn’t surprise me by now. Nothing she does should surprise me.

“Well, that’s fine,” she decides. “I’m sure there has to be something around here you can wear. So long as it’s the same color, you should be fine. But there’s no time to have it fitted, so you’ll have to find something that fits you off the rack.”

I change quickly before going out to the sales floor and combing through racks of dresses. I have the original dress over my arm to make sure the color matches, and it looks like there isn’t much to choose from in my size. In fact, after checking out every single rack in the store, there’s only one dress I end up taking back to the fitting room.

Mom has now changed back into her street clothes and is sipping her second glass of champagne. I guess calories don’t count if you’re drinking them. “Let’s see it on you,” she urges, steering me toward the dressing room again.

Right away, I see the problem with this one. Sure, it covers my back, but it barely covers my ass. I tug it as hard as I can, but that’s not going to magically add a few inches of material. I’m almost ashamed to open the curtain and show everybody how much of me is on display.

Mom shrugs. “It fits you well. A little shorter than I’d like, but if it’s our only choice, so be it.”

“Maybe I could wear the other dress, but with like a shawl or something?” I shoot a hopeful look toward the woman who’s been helping Mom through this, and she taps her chin with one shiny nail.

“I don’t think we have anything in that color, I’m afraid. With a little more time, we could order something.”