Chapter 1: The Dress That Shouldn't Exist
Chapter 1: The Dress That Shouldn't Exist
The torn lace lay scattered across the ballroom floor.
Guests stared in stunned silence.
A few moments earlier, the bride, Vanessa Sinclair, had ripped apart her custom wedding gown after discovering a tiny stain near the hem.
Furious that her "perfect day" had been ruined, she had grabbed the fabric and torn it in front of everyone.
Now the ruined dress hung in pieces.
Across from her, the elderly seamstress remained kneeling.
She didn't cry.
She didn't shout.
She simply looked at the destroyed gown and whispered:
"Only someone empty inside would destroy a dress sewn from a mother's final prayer."
The words echoed through the room.
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
The seamstress slowly stood.
Her name was Margaret Bell.
For sixty years she had created wedding dresses by hand.
But this dress had been different.
Very different.
Margaret gently lifted a torn piece of lace.
"This pattern was commissioned twenty-two years ago."
The room grew quiet.
"A young mother came to me carrying a newborn baby."
Margaret's voice trembled.
"She asked me to create a wedding dress for her daughter."
Confused murmurs spread among the guests.
"A dress for a baby?" someone asked.
Margaret nodded.
"The mother was dying."
Silence.
"She knew she would never see her little girl grow up. She wanted to leave behind one final gift."
Even Vanessa's expression softened slightly.
Margaret continued.
"The mother embroidered a message into the lace herself."
Then she pointed toward the ruined bodice.
"The message you just tore apart."
At that moment, a woman near the back of the ballroom gasped.
May you like
Her hand flew to her mouth.
And her entire body began to shake.
