y future sister-in-law stole the wedding dress my grandmother made for me before she died—and wore it to her own wedding. I could’ve stopped the ceremony. Instead, I made one phone call. When Melissa opened the gift I had rushed to the reception, her hands began to shake.
When I walked into Melissa’s wedding and saw her standing near the altar in my grandmother’s dress, I honestly thought my brain had stopped working.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything.
All I could see was the dress.
My dress.
I honestly thought my brain had stopped working.
The ivory lace sleeves my grandmother had sewn by hand.
The row of tiny pearl buttons down the back. The slight curve in the neckline she’d changed three times because she kept insisting the first version “didn’t look like Alice.”
My grandmother made that dress while she was dying.
And Melissa was wearing it.
The ivory lace sleeves my grandmother had sewn by hand.
“Is that my dress?”
I turned to Ryan. His face had gone pale.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean… I don’t know.”
I started walking.
“Is that my dress?”
“Alice, wait.”
I didn’t.
Melissa was standing with two bridesmaids near the entrance to the reception hall, laughing about something.
When she saw me coming, her smile became smaller and sharper.
Almost satisfied.
“Alice, wait.”
I stopped directly in front of her.
“Take it off.”
One of her bridesmaids blinked.
Melissa tilted her head. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Ryan caught up behind me.
“Take it off.”
I pointed at the dress.
“Take my grandmother’s dress off.”
A few people nearby turned toward us.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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