The dress was mostly feathers; the whole clan had contributed. Perry wasn’t sure whether she looked like an angel or a fast-food mascot. They hadn’t brought mirrors, so she was using one of the drop-cams patched into a roller’s comms screen. I still can’t tell. “How do I look?”
“Like Fri.” Kree’s great avian head was close, over her left shoulder. “Good or bad?”
“Good.” Sort of. Her grandmother’s dress was pearl-white and ornate and gorgeous and twenty-six light years away, in her mother’s closet. “Most beautiful wedding dress on the planet.”
“Then you get ‘married’ now?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
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