I felt hunger pangs stab deep in my belly, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. “I guess I am.”

“Then you’d better get dressed. We’re supposed to wear what they’ve gifted us.” When she spun, the hem of her skirt floated around her knees. “Isn’t it pretty?”

The dress was like something out of the fifties. It had a slender bodice and cinched waist. The bottom flared out, moving like wispy clouds as she practically skipped across the room to one of a pair of matching dressing tables.

Calla sat, starting to pull her blonde hair back with a large tortoiseshell clip. I opened the cedar chest, and pulled out the first dress my fingers grabbed. It was a softly muted green. As I glanced around the room, I realized there was no bathroom. I peeled my top off, dropping it into the chest and slipping the dress over my head. Once I was semi-covered, I slid my jeans off and added them to the chest.

Calla pointed to a pair of pale green flats peeking out from under my bed. They fit perfectly. I tucked my socks into my shoes before setting them on the chest. Next, I sat at my own dressing table and tried my best to copy Calla’s hairstyle.

“I know you must feel better,” she said. “Getting out of those clothes. They’re like shackles from our old lives.” Calla hummed a childlike tune as she made her bed.

“Oh, yes. Much better,” I agreed, trying to match her sedate tone. Once my hair was as fixed as it was going to be, I stood and began making my own bed just as a light tapping on the door signaled our release.

“Good morning, girls,” said a reserved, middle-aged woman. Her gray hair was neatly wrapped in a tight bun, and a gray-colored J hung around her neck. The only other jewelry she wore was a thin silver band on the index finger of her right hand. The woman smiled kindly when she entered. “Now that you’re awake, what should we call you?”

“Penny,” I said.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Penny. I’m Sarabeth. Calla has been waiting a long time for her sister to get here.” She smiled wistfully, turning her silver band around her finger. “In the end, sisters are all we ever have.”

“Aside from our One,” Calla said.

“Yes, of course, child,” Sarabeth said. After striding to the chest at the foot of my bed, she swung the lid open. I tried to fight against a sense of intrusion as I watched her remove my clothes. She bent to pick up my socks and shoes before leading us out of the room.

“Where is she taking my stuff?” I whispered.

“To the incinerator,” Sarabeth said, answering the question I’d meant for Calla.