“The seamstress cut mine short in June,” I said.

“It came to my shoulders.

I stood in a dressing room and held still while she did it.”

Chloe’s mouth went small.

“Vanessa told her to.”

“Vanessa told her to.” I smoothed the front of my dress.

The silk was cool and thin, and it didn’t catch on the hedge or the gravel or the ring box in Chloe’s pocket.

She straightened the strap at my shoulder.