#Chapter 42: Look Don’t Touch

Bethany and I inspect the remnants of our train. “Is there anything we can do?” I ask. I’ve been around a sewing machine, but it’s hardly my area of expertise. There isn’t exactly time for it anyway. I’m supposed to be in the entryway in ten minutes. Bethany stares hard at the lace, then at my dress. “Turn around,” she says. “Uh, please. Mistress.” “Harper,” I remind her and turn as she directed. She gently brushes my hair off to one side. Reaching up, I assist, holding my hair in a loose bunch to the side. “Hold this please, Harper,” she says, passing me the lace. “Just for a moment.” Peeking over my shoulder, I watch as she removes a small sewing kit form her pocket. From the kit she pulls a needle and thread. “I’d like to try something,” she says. “It won’t look exactly how it was, but it should hide the tear the train made in the rest of the dress.” “Go ahead,” I say, when I realize she’s waiting for my permission. She holds her hand out for the lacy fabric, which I