The air left my lungs. “My… my wedding dress?” I choked out, the words barely a whisper. “Becca, that was my wedding dress.”

A beat of silence. “Oh. I… I didn’t realize,” she stammered, her apology so flimsy it was insulting. “I honestly didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Shaking with a fury I’d never felt before, I ordered her to bring it back. Now. Adam, equally livid, left work early.