Evelyn stood in front of the mirror; fingers curled loosely around the hanger. The dress hung delicately in her hands—soft purple silk that caught the late afternoon light, flowing like rosewater. The same dress they had picked out together during that brief, golden vacation that felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone braver. Someone free.

She slowly lifted it to her body, tucking it against her chest. A breath escaped her lips, part nerves, part... excitement? Was it okay to feel this? To hope? A soft knock broke her trance.