That night, I heard my mom in the attic, dragging boxes around. A few minutes later, Grandma called weakly from her room, and my mom came down carrying an old white storage box with a cracked lid.
Grandma was propped up against her pillows.
« Open it, » she told me.
Inside was tissue paper yellowed with age. Under that was the dress.
It was pale blue once, I think, though time had faded it into a soft grayish color that almost looked silver in the lamplight. The waist was tiny.
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