85. The Dress

Someone was shaking Riley. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw Lucas looming over her, his small hands insistent on her shoulders. “Riley, Riley, wake up!” His voice pierced the early morning stillness with a pitch that could only belong to a child who had discovered something marvelous. Blinking away the fog of unconsciousness, Riley propped herself on one elbow and peered up into Lucas’ face. “Lucas? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gravelly with sleep. “Pan-cakes!” he exclaimed. “You gotta come see! They are huge with strawberries on top this time!” Her pulse slowed down. It wasn’t an emergency—it was breakfast. Pancakes. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You are right. I should get up.” “Sorry, Riley. I wanted to let you sleep, but I couldn’t stop Lucas,” Tiffany said. She was standing by the door with a guilty expression on her face. “Come on, Riley!” Lucas tugged at her sleeve. Riley looked down at herself and hesitated. “I don’t know if this is appropriate for breakf