*Lena*
“Abigail won't mind, not one bit," Heather grinned as she pulled a studded leather jacket from Abigail's closet. She turned it around, holding the hanger as she ran her fingers over the leather. “You know how she is, always wanting us all to dress a certain way for these things."
Heather wasn't wrong. We'd been calling Abigail our pageant mom for years now, but tonight just didn't feel the same without her.
I glanced in the mirror in the tight bedroom Viv and Abigail shared, fluffing my hair. Heather had curled and styled it to fall over my shoulders in beachy waves, which highlighted the angles of my face beautifully.
Hair, check. Makeup? It would do. I wasn't used to seeing myself with dark plum lipstick and heavy, vampy eyes, but the liner Heather had chosen did bring out t
