Ripley's POV
There was something like relief settling deep in her chest.
Ripley ran a brush through her hair one last time, inspecting her reflection in the mirror.
It would do.
The little blue sundress was a little short considering the time of year, but autumn in the South was always a little bit warmer than it should be.
It did at least have long, lantern sleeves that would keep her arms warm if it got cool. Of course, it was a mostly open back with only a bow to keep the shoulders from slipping down, but it was cute, and she refused to change.
She pulled on a pair of wedge—heeled booties and practically danced down the stairs.
Relief, anticipation, joy. The ribbons of those balloons twisted and knotted together inside of her. For once, she didn't worry about untangling each emotion.
When she heard the knock at the door, she nearly squealed with delight.
Delight turned to sour milk in her gut as she opened the door.
"Is everything alright?" she asked