I sat down while he examined the dress.
“You’re wearing it to the service?”
“Yeah. I figured… she’d like that.”
“Sentimental. She always had a thing for holding onto the past.”
That didn’t sound like a compliment.
“She never even told me about it,” I said. “About prom or anything. It’s not like her.”
Mr. Chen ran his fingers along the hem. “People don’t always tell the full story. Sometimes they edit.”
“That’s a weird way to put it.”
“Is it?” He adjusted the fabric. “You live in her house now?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a lot to take on at your age.”
“I’ll manage,” I said quickly.
His fingers suddenly stopped. “Hold on.”
My heart skipped. “What?”
“There’s something in the hem. That shouldn’t be there.”
I stood up immediately. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes people hide things in clothing. Especially items they don’t want found easily.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
He reached into the seam and pulled out a small folded piece of paper, yellowed with age.
My hands shook before I even touched it.
“That was inside?”
“Stitched in. Very deliberately.”
