Jessa

By the time Mariah dropped me off, the late-afternoon sun had turned the living room warm and golden. My arms felt empty — lighter — without the dress bag we’d handed over at the seamstress shop.

Three days.

That’s how long it would take before I got the dress back.

Three days before I’d see if all those pins and careful tucks turned it into something that actually fit me.

Three days before I’d know if I’d look like the girl Noah Carter wanted to take to Homecoming… or ...