Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) by Michelle Madow Page B

the one. It needs to have more sparkle.”
    “Alright.” Keelie smiled, opening the door to go back into the department store. “So let’s look at some more.”
    I reached down to grab my bag, which was heavy from the sketchbook that I’d shoved inside before leaving the house. “Do you guys mind if I meet up with you later?” I asked. “There’s a store in the mall that makes custom masks, and I want to check it out. It’s getting near their closing time, but you two should keep looking for dresses.”
    Chelsea placed her hands on her hips. “But you still haven’t found one.”
    “I’ll find one another day,” I promised. “But I’ve got a particular idea in mind for my mask, and I want to show it to them to make sure they can get it done in time.”
    She hesitated, and finally said, “Okay. If that’s what you want.” 
    “It shouldn’t take long,” I said. “I’ve already drawn it out, so I just have to show it to them.”
    We agreed that I would call them when heading back to the department store, and I walked into the mall, referring to a nearby map to point me in the right direction. It wasn’t hard to find.
    Alistair’s was an eclectic antique store at the end of the mall, specializing in both new and old costumes, paintings, jewelry, and masks. The inside was small and dark, with items packed together as tightly as possible. It even smelled old, like a fur coat after it’s removed from a storage box full of mothballs. Exquisite masks and paintings lined the walls, elaborate costumes hung on racks in the back, and dark wooden tables displayed small, somewhat kitschy items in the front. I walked up to a table and ran my fingers over a golden horse pulling a coach, the small sculpture smooth to the touch.
    “Can I help you?” a gruff voice asked from behind an antique desk in the back of the room. There was a computer on top of it, and it looked foreign amongst the other items in the store—like someone had brought it back in time.
    “Do you make custom masks?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. 
    “Sure do. Anything particular you had in mind?”
    He didn’t appear to be making an effort to stand, so I walked closer to him until I stood in front of the desk. “I sketched something out,” I said, placing the sketchbook on the table and opening it to the bookmarked page. “But I don’t know if it’s possible to make. It’s for the Halloween dance at my school in three weeks.”
    He placed a pair of spectacles over his eyes, leaning forward to take a closer look. “Interesting…” he trailed, bringing his face so close to the drawing that it looked like he was trying to smell the paper.
    I played with the shoulder strap on my bag, wondering if that meant he could recreate it or not.
    Half a minute passed before he looked up. “Did you copy this from a book?”
    “No.” I shook my head. “I just thought it up and drew it. No book.”
    He looked at it again, like he was searching for something hidden within the sketch. “It’s remarkably accurate…”
    “Accurate of what?”
    “The style of mask that English ladies wore to masquerades in the Regency times. But surely you knew that already.”
    “I didn’t,” I told him. “It just popped into my mind, and I drew it.”
    “Hmm.” He looked conflicted, and he studied me for a moment longer, like he was making sure I was telling the truth. “Okay.”
    “So you can make it?” I asked, smiling in excitement.
    “All I have to do is weave the gold. It’s like magic.” He winked. “It should be ready in two weeks, so you’ll have it a week before the dance.”
    “Great.” I beamed, relieved by how easy that was.
    “Now, for the rest of your outfit…”
    I tilted my head in question. “What?”
    “You need a dress to go with your mask. Unless you’ve already purchased one?”
    I shook my head no.
    “Perfect.” He walked to one of the long racks in the back of the shop and rummaged through the