"Blame me for not listening back then, for insisting on leaving the borderlands with Zachary."
"But all I wanted was to marry the man I loved."
As she spoke, she drew a silver clasp out of her gown.
A tiny butterfly was carved into it.
My eyes fell on that clasp, and something in my chest wrenched tight.
I had forged it with my own hands the year Lorna turned seven.
As a child she was always hiding her treasures in a little cloth pouch.
The clasp had been sewn into the deepest fold of that pouch.
She used to say that when she had a child of her own someday, she would sew this same clasp into hers.
And now it was in this woman's hand.
The bride raised the clasp up in front of me, crying.
"Mama, look."
"You gave this to me yourself."
"I've kept it all this time."
"How could I not be your Lorna?"
I did not take the clasp. I only looked at her.
"If you're Lorna."
"Then tell me. When did I give you this clasp?"
For one instant the bride's face froze.
Zachary spoke at once.
"Lorna's health has been poor these past years."
"There's so much from her childhood she can't clearly remember."
"Mrs. Harding, must you corner her like this, on her wedding day?"
He crossed to the bride's side and reached out to help her up.
His movements were gentle, as if she were something fragile and precious.
"She's been anxious for a long time, working toward today."
"You're her mother. Can't you spare her a little tenderness, just once?"
Leaning against Zachary, the bride wept harder.
"Mama, if you won't claim me."
"Then I won't marry today."
"I don't want to put Zachary in a hard place."
Zachary's face darkened, and he lifted his eyes to me.
"Mrs. Harding."
"If you still claim Lorna as your daughter, then drape the borderland bridal gown over her with your own hands."
"If you won't claim her, then leave."
"I won't let anyone ruin her wedding."
The moment those words left him, the Sanchez family had someone carry over a wooden chest.
When it opened, the whole hall went quiet for a breath.
Inside was a borderland bridal gown, red ground worked with silver thread.
I had embroidered it for Lorna with my own hands.
Before she left the borderlands, she had secretly tried it on once.
The skirt was too long, trailing across the floor.
She turned a full circle, her eyes crinkling with laughter.
"Mama, do I look pretty in it?"
"On the day I marry, you have to drape it over me yourself."
I scolded her then for being shameless, but that same night I sewed the blood-thread curse into the gown.
If Lorna wore it, it would glow a faint blue and guard her safety all her life.
If it was not Lorna, it would not stir at all.
Zachary pushed the gown toward me.
"Your borderland things would never lie to you."
"If the gown knows its rightful owner, shouldn't you be apologizing to Lorna?"
The bride stood where she was, a flicker of satisfaction she couldn't quite smother crossing her eyes.
But she quickly lowered her head again, putting on a wronged little look.
"Mama, I'm willing to prove it."
"As long as you'll claim me."
I looked at that gown, and suddenly I smiled.
"All right."
"Then prove it to me."
I reached out and took up the gown, walking step by step toward the bride.
With my own hands I draped it over her shoulders.
The silver thread that had lain dead suddenly lit.
Blue curse-light flowed out along the patterns.
Old Mrs. Sanchez let out a breath at last.
Zachary looked at me, a cold, certain triumph in his eyes.
"What have you got to say now?"
The bride's tears rolled down, as if some vast injustice had finally been washed clean.
"The gown knows me."
"I really am your Lorna."
I stood there, watching the curse-light on the gown.
For one instant, my heart lurched hard.
Could she truly be my Lorna?
But soon enough, I saw what was wrong.
A thought flashed through my mind.
I knew exactly what was going on now!
