“It’s hell stitched into a goddamn dress is what it is. Two dresses to be exact. Geraldine wants us to wear these to the ‘grand returning’ or whatever she keeps calling it. But look at them.” She wafted them so the skirts unfolded, holding up the two gowns which were hideous beyond words. Huge frilly bows and miles of netting clustered together on each puffy disaster. “I’m not wearing it,” Tory announced. “I’m going to burn them, Darcy.” A wild light lit her eyes and sparks crackled along her skin. “Burn them with me, we’ll say it was an accident.”
Hahahahaha
