Darla looked past them to the open back door of her car, where Sadie was carefully gathering her skirt off the seat so it wouldn’t snag on the door latch.

“She looks exactly the way she’s supposed to,” Darla said.

Sadie stepped out onto the pavement, holding the long emerald skirt two inches up so the hem wouldn’t brush the dusty ground.

The green silk caught the glow of the lights overhead, rich and bright against the dark night.

Her brown hair was pinned back in soft curls, and a little wrist corsage of white carnations sat against her arm.

She paused at the back bumper and