The tiny brass hook at the collar of my silk gown snapped with a sharp click and bounced off the full-length mirror.

Paige caught the back of my dress before the silk slipped off my shoulders, her fingernails grazing my spine.

“Did the metal break or did the thread give?” Paige asked.

I reached around my neck and felt the rough edge where the fastener used to be.

“The loop snapped clean off.”

Paige crossed her arms and tapped her right foot on the linoleum.

She had been on edge since eleven o’clock, checking her watch every ten minutes while we did our hair.

“Stay right there,” Paige said.

She crouched down in her plum bridesmaid dress and swept her hand under the vanity skirt until her knuckles hit the wooden trim.

She stood up empty-handed and set her hairbrush on the table next to a small square of paper.

“Is it under the heater?” I asked.

“No, it must have rolled into the hallway vent,” Paige said.

“I’ll walk down to the parish office and see if the secretary keeps safety pins in her drawer.”

“Take the side hallway so none of the guests see you before two o’clock,” I said.

“Sit down and don’t move,” Paige said.

“If that silk folds over, you’ll have a crease right across the collar before you even get to the altar.”

She shut the bridal suite door behind her with a quiet click.

I sat on the padded stool, looking at the dressing table.