I shuffled nervously at the bottom of the stairs, pulling at the spaghetti strap on my right shoulder as it slipped down over my bare arm. The flowers clutched in my hands looked pretty on the surface, but the bundled stems had long begun to brown from the fidgeting and sweat of my anxious hands.

Meira looked over her shoulder and winked at me, her matching dress perfect on her figure. My sister had a figure. Growing up way too fast for my liking.

"Stop," she whispered. ...