“You don’t do alterations, right?” I asked.
On the surface, a stupid question. The place was a consignment shop after all. But I had just watched my future sister-in-law sneak in here holding her wedding dress only to slip out moments later emptyhanded.
“Just buying and selling, right?” I continued.
The greasy man behind the counter nodded, giving me the proof I’d been desperately seeking.
I had never liked her. Even from the beginning. Call it an uneasy feeling, one I couldn’t shake.
Now came the hard part.
I had to tell my older brother he wasn’t getting married today.
The Weekday One Hundred 