Kaylee manages a small, awkward smile before going where she's told.








It fits.

She runs a hand down the skirt -- silk, she thinks, the real thing -- and looks in the mirror.

Turns her head to one side, then the other. Turns around, and cranes her neck over her shoulder.

Lost weight, she thinks. Just not where it matters. But the way it's cut, it's nice to the hips, so they won't notice what I look like now.

Feel like a fraud with this thing on. Least all the others are put away. Just one more for the collection.







"Reckon it's to my satisfaction," she says, dress on its hanger in one hand.