CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

It’s a sunny Saturday morning and Farah and I go in and out of shops on Central Avenue in downtown Chicago, searching for the bridesmaids dresses Kel described to us.

Lavender with a cup neck, strapless and length coming to just under our knees with black heeled sandals to match. The more time goes by, the more my feet hurt from all this walking.

Crap, I forgot just how much I hate shopping. I remember, when my mom used to take Kel and me; it was torture.

"Seriously, are we done yet?" I whine, grinning when Farah gives me what can only be explained as the fuck-off look. From experience, I know that when she's on a mission, which she is now, there's no stopping her.

"No, we have two more stores to go. Come on honey."

I begrudgingly follow her inside Neiman Marcus, promising myself a pint of Ben & Jerry's Rocky Road ice cream after this.

After searching high and low, I hear Farah squeal in delight and hold up yet another sleeveless dress, this one with a black embroidered sash at the