I reached out and rubbed the fabric between my thumb and forefinger.

It felt rough and heavy, like thick curtains from an old office.

“Honey, that dress looks like it’s twenty years old,” I said.

Sadie held the hanger up to her collarbone and looked into the little square mirror glued to the drywall.

“It just needs a few changes, Mom.

It’s totally fine.”

She tucked her hair behind her left ear and smoothed the navy skirt down over her jeans.

She kept her eyes on her own worn-out sneakers so I wouldn’t see her face.