Chapter 3

Seven days before my sister's wedding, the phoenix's tail on her wedding gown came undone.

The gold thread holding one of the feathers had come loose, revealing a dense cluster of tiny needle holes beneath.

Mother's eyes reddened with panic.

"Mrs. Sinclair Sr. is coming tomorrow to inspect the gifts we've prepared for Clara, including her wedding gown. What are we going to do?"

She had spent three years embroidering that gown, and the strain had long since ruined her eyesight.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, as though on cue, everyone turned to look at me.

Mother pushed the wedding gown toward me. "Evelyn, your embroidery skills are the best in the family. Stay up tonight and repair your sister's gown."

I refused. Julian and I were supposed to go to the county courthouse early the next morning to register our marriage.

Arthur immediately frowned. "Can't you register your marriage another day? If Mrs. Sinclair Sr. sees the damage to the wedding gown, how will our sister ever establish herself in the Sinclair family?"

"Doesn't my wedding matter, then?" I shot back.

Father's expression darkened. "It's only a one-day delay. Why are you making such a fuss? Why must you compete with your sister over everything?"

Mother took my hand. "Evelyn, just this once. Once Clara is safely married, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I'd heard those words my entire life.

When I was little, and there was only one serving of custard to go around, Mother had told me that Clara's health was frail and made me give up my share.

When Clara was accepted into a girls' school, Mother sold the emerald pendant my maternal grandmother had left me, promising she'd buy it back someday.

When Clara got engaged, Mother took the money I'd been saving to buy jewelry for myself, once again promising to repay me later.

But that later never came.

I pulled my hand away. "I'm not fixing it."

Mother froze, and tears immediately welled up in Clara's eyes.

"You're still angry with me for using your fine gold thread, aren't you, Evelyn? If you really don't want to help, I'll just wear the damaged gown on my wedding day. If they look down on me, so be it. I suppose that's just my fate."

Arthur stepped in front of her protectively before turning to glare at me.

"Mother has ruined her eyesight embroidering gowns for both of you. Now she's asking you to do one little thing to help, and you're making excuses and refusing to cooperate. Evelyn Ellwood, do you have no conscience at all?"

I almost laughed out of sheer exasperation.

Mother had ruined her eyesight embroidering a gown that would adorn my sister in splendor from head to toe, yet I didn't even have a decent wedding gown of my own. Even so, I was still expected to be overwhelmed with gratitude for everything she'd supposedly sacrificed.

I turned to leave when a sudden cry rang out behind me.

Mother had grabbed the edge of the table for support before collapsing into Clara's arms, her face pale.

Father rushed forward to catch her, then immediately slapped me across the face.

"Are you determined to drive your mother to her grave?"

My cheek burned.

Leaning against Clara's shoulder, Mother began to cry. "Enough. There's no point in forcing her. She doesn't even have room in her heart for her own mother anymore. I won't blame her."

Furious, Father ordered the courtyard gates locked, while Arthur even took away the documents Julian and I needed to register our marriage.

"You'll get them back when the gown is fixed," he said.

The oil lamp burned throughout the night as I carefully stitched the fallen golden feather back into place, one stitch at a time.

Well past midnight, the gold thread sliced through my fingertip. A bead of blood stained the silk, and I had no choice but to wipe it away and keep stitching.

By dawn, the phoenix's tail was finally as good as new.

Clara put on the gown and twirled twice in front of the mirror.

"See, Evelyn? You really do have the best hands."

No one asked if my fingers hurt. No one remembered that I'd already missed the time Julian and I were supposed to register our marriage.

…

By the time I finally reached the county courthouse, it was already late, but Julian was still waiting at the foot of the stone steps.

The morning mist had dampened his blue robe, and tiny droplets of water clung to his hair.

"I'm so sorry," i said softly.

I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes.

He didn't blame me. Instead, he gently wrapped a clean handkerchief around my fingers, which were still bleeding.

"Was it for your sister again?"

I remained silent.

After securing the handkerchief around my hand, Julian spoke softly.

"Evelyn, if a place brings you nothing but pain, leaving isn't an act of disloyalty. It's a way to save yourself."

…

When I finally returned home, Mrs. Sinclair Sr., whom Mother had mentioned earlier, was inspecting the wedding gown. She ran her fingers over the phoenix's tail and nodded with satisfaction.

"The stitching is exquisite. You've certainly gone to a lot of trouble, Mrs. Ellwood."

Mother smiled and graciously accepted the praise.

"Anything for Clara. It's only what a mother should do."

Clara linked her arm through Mother's affectionately.

"Mother embroidered this wedding gown herself, every single stitch. She never let anyone else touch it."

I stood outside the doorway, looking down at my ten fingers wrapped in bandages. So, they could claim credit for my work just as easily as they'd taken everything else that belonged to me.

Before Mrs. Sinclair Sr. left, she noticed the roughly stitched wedding gown in the corner.

"Is this for one of the bridesmaids?"

The entire room fell silent. Mother stiffened before hurriedly changing the subject to cover up the awkwardness.

After the Sinclair family had left, Father hurled his teacup to the floor at my feet.

"Did you leave that shabby dress lying around on purpose to humiliate our family in front of the Sinclairs?"

Shards of porcelain sliced through the hem of my skirt.

Mother's eyes reddened as she confronted me, too.

"I already promised to make it up to you later. Why do you insist on targeting your sister?"

I looked at their furious faces and suddenly realized there was no point in explaining myself anymore. When someone never loved a person, everything they said would be dismissed as an excuse.