This is something else.
Without thinking, I reach up and gather my hair at the back of my head, twisting it loosely. Mum used to do that before going out, quick and effortless, like she didn’t even have to try.
I don’t have a pin, so I hold it in place.
Same long blond curls, falling over my shoulders just like hers used to. For a second… I almost look like her.
My throat tightens as I stare at my reflection.
Mum was beautiful. Everyone said it, but it wasn’t just that. She had this quiet confidence, like she understood people—how they felt, why they did the things they did. She always seemed to know the right thing to say.
I let my hair fall again.
Damn, I wish she were here.
I’m still staring at my reflection when I hear something outside.
At first it’s faint—the soft creak of the deck shifting, then the dull thud of someone climbing up the ladder. I freeze, telling myself it’s probably just the wind. But then I hear it again. Footsteps crossing the deck.
Dane.
Of course it’s Dane.
I glance toward the door, suddenly very aware of the dress, of the book sitting on the bench behind me. I didn’t mean to be gone this long, but time slipped.
The footsteps stop right outside the cabin. Then the door opens.
Dane steps in and goes completely still.
For a moment, neither of us says anything. He stands just inside the doorway, one hand still on the frame, staring at me like he forgot why he came.
And then it hits me what he’s seeing.
Not the girl who left camp wearing worn shorts and a loose shirt.
This.
Standing here in a white sundress that doesn’t belong on this island—or on me. The fabric fits closer than anything I usually wear, skimming over my hips and pulling in at my waist. In the soft light from the window, I look different. Prettier than I’m used to.
Heat creeps up my neck into my cheeks.
“I—uh…” I try for casual, but it comes out a little unsure. “I was curious what it would look like.”
He doesn’t answer. He just keeps staring.
The silence stretches long enough that I start to feel self-conscious, like I’ve done something strange, like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. I let out a small, awkward laugh and turn once, the skirt moving around my legs.
“I’ve never worn anything like this.”
Still nothing. For a second, I regret putting it on at all.
Then he finally speaks. “It looks good on you.”
Something warm flickers in my chest at the way he says it.
I shift my weight, suddenly shy under his gaze. And, for some reason, hopeful too.
“Dane… am I pretty?”
