When my half-sister Jade called in a panic, I didn’t expect to spend the next three weeks buried in fabric and frustration. She needed six custom bridesmaid dresses—fast. I hadn’t sewn professionally since giving birth, but she promised to pay. Money was tight. I said yes. Each bridesmaid had wildly different requests. My baby cried through the night as I stitched, balanced bottles, and bled from my fingertips. Jade kept delaying payment. “Soon,” she said.
I dipped into our baby fund just to buy materials.When I delivered the finished dresses—gorgeous, hand-fitted works—Jade barely looked up from her phone. “This is your gift,” she said. “You don’t even work.” At her wedding, my dresses stole the show. Guests raved.
