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"Did you?" I dared ask, again with Rachel's tone. She glanced at me. "You didn't ask your grandfather that, did you?"

"No. Why?"

"He'd tell you something like I went so slowly in our relationship, he was having breakfast while I was still having dinner."

She laughed, and I smiled and thought, This is wonderful. For the first time, I really did feel like her granddaughter. She wasn't afraid to share intimate things with me. Getting out and casting off the dark shadows I had become too comfortable wearing was the best thing I had done after all.

For the remainder of our day together, we were truly more like mother and daughter, even like two sisters, just the way she was with my aunt Zipporah, laughing at some of the dresses I tried on and consulting closely on every possible aspect of my complete prom outfit. She described her own prom gown to me and even went into details about the evening and how exciting it had been for her,

"Of course, we didn't stay out all night, despite what your grandfather might imply about how we were when we were your age. But I suppose we have to bend a little with the times," she added. "Just be sure I know where you'll be and when, okay?"

"Yes," 1 promised.

Some of the dresses we considered were very expensive, I thought, but she didn't seem to care about price. In the end both of us liked a peacock gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline and a layered split tiered tulle ball gown skirt with beads.

"I have the perfect necklace to go with it," my grandmother said, "and matching earrings."

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and bemoaned my short hair, because the picture we saw in the magazine of gowns in the store had a girl wearing it and the girl had her hair beautifully done up with a bun at the top and strings down the side.

"I have an idea," my grandmother said, seeing my unhappiness over my hair. "Don't worry. Let's get your shoes first."

After that, she drove me to a hair salon, where they had hair pieces that would match my color. The stylist she knew sat me in a chair and worked on it until I was amazed at the difference in my appearance.

"Now you're truly complete," my grandmother said. "You make me wish I was your age again."

She hugged me and I thanked her.

How perfect the world suddenly seemed.

It truly made me feel as if I had found a safe place, a fortress of happiness. Slowly, with less and less hesitation, I was lowering the drawbridge, unfolding my arms and holding them out to welcome the world, to invite it to come in.

And then those angry shadows that had followed at my heels all my life pushed everything else aside and galloped over the bridge to sack and pillage my joy and delight and get themselves some sweet revenge.

8 Nothing Will Change

. Some alterations were made on my prom gown, and it was delivered by the end of the week. Craig was occupied with the baseball play-offs that were going to be held on Friday at a neutral field. He had picked me up for school every day but was unable to take me home any day during the week. I felt he was quite distracted and less talkative, but it wasn't until Friday morning that I discovered the reason.

This particular morning he was acting even more withdrawn. At first I thought it might be because he was nervous about the game, but after a few moments I realized it was something more serious. I knew him well enough by now to understand when he was very upset. If he fell into any dark mood, he usually shook it off the moment he saw me and was sweet and funny almost instantly. He was always making a big effort to snap me out of any depression or unhappiness.

"The last thing I want to see," he told me more than once, "is for you to return to that withdrawn, frightened little mouse you were. You're too beautiful, and you have too much to offer to be hidden away in some attic, Alice. I won't let it happen," he told me.

But now, just as I had always wondered, what could he do to stop it if the shadows were too thick and powerful and wanted me back? I could see on his face that he couldn't avoid bringing me bad news.

"I've got a small problem," he began, "but before I tell you about it, I want to assure you that nothing will change."

"What is it?"

"Nothing will change."

"Okay, Craig. What?"

"My mother is a snob. She's always been a

snob. Even before she married my father, she had money and thought she was some kind of royalty. Her father was a very successful business attorney, and she and my uncle Steve, her younger brother, were always spoiled. My dad's the first to say so, too. I mean, I love my mother, as you'd expect, and I love my uncle, too, but I'm not blind and stupid about it all."

"What is this all leading to, Craig?"

"I should have told her I had asked you to the prom and that we've been seeing each other. She found out from one of her gossips at the beauty parlor and first was angry that I had not told her."