“It needs half an inch off the bottom if she wears flats,” Chloe said, looking up at Darla.

“If she wears a two-inch heel, it doesn’t need one stitch.”

“Look at the back, Sadie,” I said, my voice sounding thin in the hushed shop.

Sadie turned slowly on the platform.

The back scooped down into a neat, low square, held snug by two thin straps crossing between her shoulder blades.

“I look…” Sadie began, then stopped.

She studied her profile in the left mirror panel.

“I look like I’m supposed to look.”