Evie Stanton

“Go on, my darling. Give us a spin!” My mother encouraged with excitement that didn’t reach her eyes. She was as empty as I was.

If I cared, I wonder when it happened. Who broke her and when.

I stood there on the platform while a seamstress pinned a white gown around my hips. The cream lace flared at the waist in a ballgown silhouette. It felt too large. Too heavy.

The corset pinched my ribs.

I nodded, lifting ...