Dale burst through the door.
Maisie was clutching her face, sobbing harder by the second.
“I'm so sorry, Edie. I really didn't know this gown was one you designed for yourself.”
“If I'd known, I never would have taken it.”
Dale's expression went dark.
“She hit you?”
Maisie turned her face away and wouldn't answer.
That was all it took. Dale crossed the room to me without a word and slapped me across the face.
Blood flooded my mouth.
My head stayed turned to the side, because I could not believe that Dale Harding had just raised his hand to me.
Maisie rushed forward and grabbed his arm.
“Dale, how could you hit her? It's not her fault at all. It's ours.”
“It's just, the wedding is tomorrow. Where would we even find another gown?”
Dale looked at me, a cold smile curling one corner of his mouth. “No need. Edith's specialty is invisible restoration.”
“She ruined the gown. She'll fix it with her own hands, and she won't stop until it looks exactly the way it did before.”
I turned back to face him, eyes burning, and wiped the blood from the corner of my lip with one finger. Then I laughed.
Right. Invisible restoration. My specialty.
Did he even remember how I'd learned it?
The Harding family had just fallen. I was a kid dragging him from meal to meal on an empty stomach, and creditors pounding on the door every few days.
I wasn't old enough for anyone to hire. One seamstress—one—was willing to feed me in exchange for my hands.
And that was all it was. One meal a day.
I couldn't keep Dale fed. I couldn't touch the interest the creditors kept piling on.
So I stitched day and night, desperate for the day we'd stop running.
Once my hands were good enough, I started taking overflow work home from my teacher to earn extra.
The better I got, the more she trusted me, and eventually she started giving me a cut of the pay.
I still remember the night I pushed too far—my vision blurred without warning, tears streaming and streaming, and I couldn't see anything at all.
Dale held me, sobbing, swearing through his tears.
“When I grow up, I'll never make you sew again. Never.”
And now he was making me sew a wedding gown for the woman who'd framed me, demanding I restore it in a single night.
For the first time, I was truly disappointed in Dale Harding.
“I raised you for ten years, Dale. This is how you repay me?”
“You didn't even ask me one question. You just believed every word out of her mouth and decided I was guilty.”
Not a flicker of guilt. He pulled Maisie into his arms instead.
“Don't talk to me about what you're owed, Edith. If we're keeping score, without my mother you'd be dead who knows where.”
“I'm not interested in your excuses. You said you'd repay my mother. Then tonight you fix this gown.”
He walked out with Maisie, shouldering past me hard enough to knock me off balance.
I swayed a step, and tears slid from the corners of my eyes.
“If I sew this gown, are we even?”
Dale's step faltered for just a moment. He said nothing, and kept walking with Maisie until the door closed behind them.
I sniffed, drew a breath, and picked up the shredded gown.
The fabric was specialty material. Any repair would require the exact same weave and thread color, or it would show.
But the evening dress Dale had once given me was made of the same material.
I locked myself in the hotel room and spent the night pulling that dress apart and stitching every piece into the gown.
I lost count of how many times the needle went through my fingertips instead of the fabric before the gown finally looked whole again.
When I brought it over before the ceremony, Maisie was already wearing a different gown, far more extravagant.
She widened her eyes at me in sweet, deliberate surprise. “Oh my, Edie—you really did stay up all night sewing?”
“I was afraid I wouldn't make it in time, so I had my best friend rush one over last night. Sorry about that.”
I smiled and stuffed the wedding gown back into its garment bag.
“It's fine. As long as it doesn't affect your wedding.”
The moment Dale took Maisie's arm and walked toward center stage, I threw the dress I'd spent all night repairing into the trash.
“Brenda, I kept my promise to you.”
“From now on, I'm living my own life.”
Back at the hotel, I sent my resignation to the HR manager's inbox.
I grabbed my luggage and walked out of Jeju Island without looking back.
And out of Dale Harding's life. Forever.
