Deline smiled at her daughter. Isa beamed back. “It’s perfect.” And it was. The dress was simple, but it was everything she could have hoped for. The gauzy white made her feel like she was floating in a cloud. Her arms were covered in lace, and her veil made the world look like the clouds filled the room. Best of all, the long gown covered all but the toes of her shoes. If she stood still and buried her left hand in the layers of white material, it was impossible to see the crook of her ankle or how her wrist turned inward. “No, Baby,” her mother wiped a tear from her eye. “You are perfect.” Isa fought the tears that threatened to spill down her own face. She still could not believe that this happiness should be hers. At one time, she’d thought that it could never would be. It was hard to imagine that just months ago, she’d been running for her life. After receiving a midnight letter from a friend at the Fortress, Isa’s father had dragged the family out of bed, whispering severely that there were to be no candles or fires lit.
