The wedding dress was supposed to make Clara Whitmore disappear.

The wedding dress was supposed to make Clara Whitmore disappear.

Instead, it exposed the whole family.

Clara knew something was wrong the moment she opened the bedroom door.

The white dress she had spent nine months sewing was gone.

Only a single pearl button remained on the wooden dress form.

Then she heard laughter downstairs.

Her sister's laughter.

Clara descended the staircase slowly.

The Whitmore parlor was packed with neighbors celebrating the autumn harvest.

And standing beside the fireplace was her younger sister, Rose.

Wearing Clara's dress.

The ivory fabric shimmered beneath the gaslight.

Rose turned in a slow circle.

"Don't you think it's beautiful?"

Clara stared at her.

"You stole it."

Their mother's smile disappeared.

"Clara, please."

Rose touched the embroidered flowers at her waist.

"Mother said it looked better on me."

Clara looked toward their father.

"You gave her permission?"

Thomas Whitmore cleared his throat.

"Rose has a gentleman coming tonight."

"So did I," Clara whispered.

Everyone went silent.

Rose laughed.

"You?"

Clara's face burned.

She had never told anyone about the letter hidden beneath her mattress.

A letter from Daniel Hayes.

The rancher from across the valley.

The only man who had ever looked at Clara's stained fingers and called them beautiful.

Rose stepped closer.

"Perhaps Daniel finally realized he deserves someone prettier."

Clara's eyes filled with tears.

Then the front door opened.