Chapter 2: Snip,## Chapter 2: Snip, Snip, Snip
For one second, I couldn't understand what I was seeing.
Samantha stood beside Snip, Snip
For one second, I couldn't understand what I was seeing.
Samantha stood beside the dress with a pair of silver sewing scissors she'd taken from the small basket on my desk. The blades were open the dress with a pair of silver sewing scissors she'd taken from the small basket on my desk. The blades were open, catching the light from my bedside lamp.
"Put those down," I said.
She tilted her head.
"Why?""
"Because they're not yours.""
"Neither is this room, technically. Dad, catching the light from my bedside lamp.
"Put those down," I said.
She tilted her head.
"Why?""
"Because they're not yours.""
"Neither is this room, technically. Dad pays for everything.""
"Sam, I'm serious.""
"So am I.""
She lifted the dress by its hanger.
The ivory satin slipped through her fingers, and the skirt unfolded in a shimmering wave.
My mother's dress.
Four years of saving memories, months of work by Margaret pays for everything.""
"Sam, I'm serious.""
"So am I.""
She lifted the dress by its hanger.
The ivory satin slipped through her fingers, and the skirt unfolded in a shimmering wave.
My mother's dress.
Four years of saving memories, months of work by Margaret, and a promise that had survived a decade of grief—all of it hanging between Samantha's manicured fingers.
"Don't," I whispered.
She looked at me.
For the first time that evening, there was no teasing in her expression.
"You're always so dramatic.""
"Please.""
That word should have stopped her.
I knew it. She knew it.
But Samantha, and a promise that had survived a decade of grief—all of it hanging between Samantha's manicured fingers.
"Don't," I whispered.
She looked at me.
For the first time that evening, there was no teasing in her expression.
"You're always so dramatic.""
"Please.""
That word should have stopped her.
I knew it. She knew it.
But Samantha had spent years learning that my pain was an inconvenience she could exploit whenever she wanted attention.
She positioned the scissors against the skirt.
"Maybe now you'll finally wear something normal.""
I lunged forward.
She jerked the dress away, and the first cut landed before I could reach her.
Snip had spent years learning that my pain was an inconvenience she could exploit whenever she wanted attention.
She positioned the scissors against the skirt.
"Maybe now you'll finally wear something normal.""
I lunged forward.
She jerked the dress away, and the first cut landed before I could reach her.
Snip.
A narrow strip of ivory satin fell to the floor.
I stared at it.
"No.""
Samantha laughed.
"Oh, relax. It's just fabric.""
I grabbed for the dress.
She twisted away and cut again, this time through the delicate outer layer near the waist.
Snip.
The sound seemed impossibly loud.
"Stop.
A narrow strip of ivory satin fell to the floor.
I stared at it.
"No.""
Samantha laughed.
"Oh, relax. It's just fabric.""
I grabbed for the dress.
She twisted away and cut again, this time through the delicate outer layer near the waist.
Snip.
The sound seemed impossibly loud.
"Stop!"" I screamed.
She turned toward me, eyes bright with anger.
"Why? So you can run downstairs and tell Daddy how horrible I am?""
"You're destroying it!""
"Then maybe you should have kept it in a museum.""
I caught the edge of the skirt.
She yanked it from my hands.
The fabric tore!"" I screamed.
She turned toward me, eyes bright with anger.
"Why? So you can run downstairs and tell Daddy how horrible I am?""
"You're destroying it!""
"Then maybe you should have kept it in a museum.""
I caught the edge of the skirt.
She yanked it from my hands.
The fabric tore where her scissors had already weakened it.
I stumbled backward into my desk, knocking a stack of graduation photographs onto the floor.
Samantha looked down at the scattered pictures.
"Oops.""
Then she raised the scissors again.
"Your mother isn't where her scissors had already weakened it.
I stumbled backward into my desk, knocking a stack of graduation photographs onto the floor.
Samantha looked down at the scattered pictures.
"Oops.""
Then she raised the scissors again.
"Your mother isn't here, Emily. She can't make everything special for you anymore.""
I slapped her hand away.
The scissors hit the carpet.
For one brief, hopeful moment, I thought it was over.
Then Samantha shoved me.
My shoulder struck the wall. Pain shot down my arm.
"Don't you ever touch me!"" she here, Emily. She can't make everything special for you anymore.""
I slapped her hand away.
The scissors hit the carpet.
For one brief, hopeful moment, I thought it was over.
Then Samantha shoved me.
My shoulder struck the wall. Pain shot down my arm.
"Don't you ever touch me!"" she shouted.
"You just destroyed something my mother made for me!""
"Your mother didn't make it!"" she screamed back.
"Some retired woman copied a drawing! Dad bought it because he feels shouted.
"You just destroyed something my mother made for me!""
"Your mother didn't make it!"" she screamed back.
"Some retired woman copied a drawing! Dad bought it because he feels guilty every time he looks at you!""
The words landed harder than her shove.
I stood frozen.
Samantha's chest rose and fell. Her eyes darted toward the fallen scissors.
Then she bent, picked them up, and walked toward the dress again.
I grabbed her wrist.
"Please don't.""
She stared at my hand.
"Let go.""
"Not until you put them down.""
She twisted free guilty every time he looks at you!""
The words landed harder than her shove.
I stood frozen.
Samantha's chest rose and fell. Her eyes darted toward the fallen scissors.
Then she bent, picked them up, and walked toward the dress again.
I grabbed her wrist.
"Please don't.""
She stared at my hand.
"Let go.""
"Not until you put them down.""
She twisted free.
The scissors closed around the sleeve.
Snip.
One of the delicate flower-petal sleeves fell to the floor.
I made a sound I didn't recognize as my own.
Samantha cut through the other sleeve.
Then she sliced the skirt vertically, leaving a jagged opening in the satin.
She wasn't trying.
The scissors closed around the sleeve.
Snip.
One of the delicate flower-petal sleeves fell to the floor.
I made a sound I didn't recognize as my own.
Samantha cut through the other sleeve.
Then she sliced the skirt vertically, leaving a jagged opening in the satin.
She wasn't trying to damage the dress anymore.
She was trying to make it impossible to wear.
"You're crazy!"" I screamed.
"No," she said calmly.
"I'm tired.""
"Tired of what?""
"Tired of you getting everything.""
She drove the scissors through the back of the bodice.
I reached for the blades, but she pulled them to damage the dress anymore.
She was trying to make it impossible to wear.
"You're crazy!"" I screamed.
"No," she said calmly.
"I'm tired.""
"Tired of what?""
"Tired of you getting everything.""
She drove the scissors through the back of the bodice.
I reached for the blades, but she pulled them away.
A pearl popped loose and bounced across the hardwood.
Then another.
Then another.
Tiny white beads rolled beneath my bed and disappeared into the shadows.
I dropped to my knees, trying to gather them.
"Please," I whispered.
"Please, Samantha.""
She watched me crawl across the floor.
And she laughed.
That was the sound away.
A pearl popped loose and bounced across the hardwood.
Then another.
Then another.
Tiny white beads rolled beneath my bed and disappeared into the shadows.
I dropped to my knees, trying to gather them.
"Please," I whispered.
"Please, Samantha.""
She watched me crawl across the floor.
And she laughed.
That was the sound I would remember for years.
Not the scissors.
Not the tearing silk.
The laughter.
I looked up at her from the floor.
"Why are you doing this?""
She shrugged.
"Because I can.""
Then she dropped the ruined dress onto my bed.
"There I would remember for years.
Not the scissors.
Not the tearing silk.
The laughter.
I looked up at her from the floor.
"Why are you doing this?""
She shrugged.
"Because I can.""
Then she dropped the ruined dress onto my bed.
"There. Now you can wear something that actually suits you.""
I stared at the torn satin.
My mother's promise lay in pieces.
Something inside me went frighteningly quiet.
Samantha slipped the scissors into my desk basket and picked up her handbag.
"Don't bother. Now you can wear something that actually suits you.""
I stared at the torn satin.
My mother's promise lay in pieces.
Something inside me went frighteningly quiet.
Samantha slipped the scissors into my desk basket and picked up her handbag.
"Don't bother telling Dad," she said.
"He'll believe me when I say you did this yourself.""
I looked at her.
"You think he'll believe that?""
"I think he believes whatever makes his life easiest.""
She walked to the door, then paused.
"Oh, and Emily?""
I didn't answer.
"Try not to cry too loudly tonight. Some of us have actual telling Dad," she said.
"He'll believe me when I say you did this yourself.""
I looked at her.
"You think he'll believe that?""
"I think he believes whatever makes his life easiest.""
She walked to the door, then paused.
"Oh, and Emily?""
I didn't answer.
"Try not to cry too loudly tonight. Some of us have actual plans tomorrow.""
She left.
The door clicked shut.
I remained on the floor, surrounded by pearls and scraps of satin.
For several minutes, I couldn't move.
Then I crawled to the bed and lifted the ruined gown.
One sleeve hung by a single thread. The skirt was slashed in three places. The bodice had been cut so deeply plans tomorrow.""
She left.
The door clicked shut.
I remained on the floor, surrounded by pearls and scraps of satin.
For several minutes, I couldn't move.
Then I crawled to the bed and lifted the ruined gown.
One sleeve hung by a single thread. The skirt was slashed in three places. The bodice had been cut so deeply that I could see the lining.
I pressed the fabric against my chest.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered.
My phone vibrated on the desk.
A message from Margaret Ellis appeared on the screen.
*Sweetheart, I found that I could see the lining.
I pressed the fabric against my chest.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I whispered.
My phone vibrated on the desk.
A message from Margaret Ellis appeared on the screen.
Sweetheart, I found one of your mother's original notes tucked inside the portfolio. I think you'll want to see it before graduation. Can I bring it over tomorrow morning?
I stared at the message through blurred eyes.
I typed a reply with shaking fingers.
Margaret, Samantha destroyed the dress.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Her response came a moment later.
Don't one of your mother's original notes tucked inside the portfolio. I think you'll want to see it before graduation. Can I bring it over tomorrow morning?
I stared at the message through blurred eyes.
I typed a reply with shaking fingers.
Margaret, Samantha destroyed the dress.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Her response came a moment later.
Don't throw anything away. Not one thread. I'm coming over first thing in the morning.
I looked at the ruined gown.
For the first time since Samantha had entered my room, I felt something other than pain.
Hope.
It was small and fragile.
But it was there.
I carefully gathered every piece of satin I could find, placed the throw anything away. Not one thread. I'm coming over first thing in the morning.*
I looked at the ruined gown.
For the first time since Samantha had entered my room, I felt something other than pain.
Hope.
It was small and fragile.
But it was there.
I carefully gathered every piece of satin I could find, placed the pearls in a small envelope, and folded the dress into its original box.
Then I sat beside my bed until the sky began to lighten.
I didn't sleep.
At six thirty, I heard footsteps in the hallway.
I thought it was Dad.
Instead, my stepmother appeared in the doorway.
Victoria wore a silk robe and held pearls in a small envelope, and folded the dress into its original box.
Then I sat beside my bed until the sky began to lighten.
I didn't sleep.
At six thirty, I heard footsteps in the hallway.
I thought it was Dad.
Instead, my stepmother appeared in the doorway.
Victoria wore a silk robe and held a cup of coffee.
Her eyes moved from my face to the box on the bed.
"Emily," she said, her voice cool with irritation.
"We need to talk about what happened last night.""
I looked at her.
"How do you know what happened?""
She took a sip of coffee.
"Samantha told me.""
Of course she had.
Victoria set a cup of coffee.
Her eyes moved from my face to the box on the bed.
"Emily," she said, her voice cool with irritation.
"We need to talk about what happened last night.""
I looked at her.
"How do you know what happened?""
She took a sip of coffee.
"Samantha told me.""
Of course she had.
Victoria set the cup on my desk, carefully avoiding the envelope of pearls.
"She says you attacked her.""
I stood slowly.
"She destroyed my mother's dress.""
Victoria's expression hardened.
"That is not what she told me.""
I opened the box.
For the first time, I let someone else see the damage.
Victoria looked down at the torn satin.
Then she looked at me.
And the words she spoke next the cup on my desk, carefully avoiding the envelope of pearls.
"She says you attacked her.""
I stood slowly.
"She destroyed my mother's dress.""
Victoria's expression hardened.
"That is not what she told me.""
I opened the box.
For the first time, I let someone else see the damage.
Victoria looked down at the torn satin.
Then she looked at me.
May you like
And the words she spoke next made me realize Samantha hadn't acted alone.
"Emily, I think you need to accept that your obsession with your mother is becoming a serious problem.""
