I stood staring into my mother's closet, the scent of her lilac perfume filling me with the need to hug her and never let her go.

Since that wasn't possible, and knowing I needed to put on a good show, short notice or not, I'd made a plan of my own, one involving doing something I swore I never would.

I needed to be my mother.

My selections were carefully chosen, from the floor-length black velvet skirt with the fine silver embroidery around the hem to the paper ...