Suspicions Rise

I'm in hell. Not only is my sister acting like a cat with its fur rubbed the wrong way, I'm in a dress shop surrounded by lace and flounce and satin. I can't find a single thing that wouldn't make me feel like a lollipop. The only reason I'd go the stupid dance is give myself a fighting chance at beating Derek. But that doesn't matter. I still have to find a dress.

"What do you think?" Amy says. She's forgotten her anger in the face of all the glimmering satin. "I love this color, but it's kinda innocent, don't you think?" She holds up a royal blue dress in the Asian style—high neck, but no sleeves. As she flutters it in my direction I can see the bodice would hug every curve, but the skirt falls all the way to the floor.

I shrug. "If you like it, try it on."

Something flashes in her eyes, but she doesn't say anything. She examines the dress, then slings it over her shoulder. "Why not?" Then she goes back to flipping through the rack.