My mom runs a boutique selling silk nightgowns. The prices are steep: 2,000forashortone,2,000 for a short one, 2,000forashortone,4,000 for a long one. Yet, women flock to the store, swearing that her nightgowns are made from fabric so fine it makes their skin soft and their complexion glow like spring. But when my sister asked for one, Mom refused. Unhappy with the rejection, my sister decided to sneak into the storage room and take one for herself. That night, I overheard strange noises coming from the storage room. My mom runs her nightgown boutique next to a small nail salon. Her shop is quite unique: it only sells women’s nightgowns, and they’re available in limited quantities—just ten a night, sold only after sunset. One evening, a group of young women, dressed to the nines, gathered outside the shop, giggling nervously and shoving each other but refusing to step in. “Hey, pretty ladies! Why don’t you come inside?” I peeked out from behind my mom and waved at them. The most striking of the group—an older girl with long, flowing hair—flipped her hair dramatically and gave a coy laugh. She nudged one of the younger, blushing girls forward. “Mrs. Carter, do you still have any left? Get my little sister here a nightgown, would you?” She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The longest, most form-fitting one you have!” “There’s still stock,” Mom replied, a faint smile on her face. The girl blushed, a soft pink spreading across her cheeks as she muttered awkwardly. “Well, uh, the last one I bought… I accidentally tore it.” She winced. “Mrs. Carter, can you please pick another one for me? I promise I’ll be more careful this time!” Mom’s expression immediately soured. “How many times have I told you? These silk nightgowns are made from the rarest material—you couldn’t put a price on them! If you buy one, you have to take care of it! How on earth did you ruin it?” “Oh, it’s because… well… it felt so good on my skin that I… never mind! Please, Mrs. Carter, just one more! I’ll pay whatever it costs. I promise to treat it better this time!” “Fine.” She clung to Mom’s arm, pleading until Mom reluctantly nodded. “Short ones are 2,000,longones2,000, long ones 2,000,longones4,000,” Mom said curtly. She gave the older girl a once-over and frowned at the excitement practically radiating off her. “For you, it’s double this time. $8,000. And you’ll have to put it on here in the store. No taking it home.” “Deal!” The girl stomped her stiletto heel in triumph, her face lighting up with joy. “Eight thousand dollars?!” The younger girl gasped, her face contorting in disbelief. She cast a cautious glance at Mom, and when she saw Mom wasn’t upset, she whispered to her sister. “Sis… are these nightgowns really worth that much? I mean, eight grand? Do you know how many hours we’d have to work scrubbing old men’s feet to make that kind of money?” “Trust me,” her sister said confidently. “Mrs. Carter’s silk nightgowns are unlike anything you’ve ever worn. Once you put one on…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression turned bashful. “Let’s just say they’re magical. They make you feel amazing. You’ll see for yourself. And once you wear one, you won’t have to worry about scrubbing feet anymore—you’ll have rich men chasing after you instead.” The younger girl hesitated, then finally nodded. “Mrs. Carter, please remember what I said. Get her the longest, most form-fitting one!” Mom smiled mysteriously, running her hands over the younger girl’s waist and sizing her up. “Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty in stock tonight—long ones, short ones, whatever you want.”
Mom led the two sisters to the back of the shop, where she slowly slid open a hidden door. “Wait… why do we need to go to the basement just to pick out a nightgown?” The younger girl stared nervously at the dark staircase leading down. She swallowed hard, her unease written all over her face. Mom gave her a cryptic smile. “A nightgown like this is different from anything else you’ve worn. The fit has to be perfect—length, size, everything. Otherwise, you won’t get a good night’s sleep.” Before the younger girl could protest, her sister grabbed her hand and pulled her down the steps. I watched as the hidden door closed behind them. Bored, I plopped down on the floor, waiting. Mom had always told me I wasn’t allowed in there. She said kids shouldn’t see what was inside—it wasn’t “appropriate.” But I wasn’t a kid anymore. Pouting, I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch any sounds. What I heard was… strange. Rustling noises, faint murmurs, and the occasional sharp cry. Were they fighting over the same nightgown in there? I was puzzled. After two hours, I finally heard loud voices from behind the door. It sounded like they had made their choice. Brushing the dust off my pants, I stood up. Sure enough, a moment later, the hidden door creaked open, and Mom emerged with the two sisters. Both of their faces were flushed, but the younger one looked like she could barely stand, her legs trembling. The older sister was now wearing a short, fitted slip dress, while the younger one had on a long, sleek nightgown. But… they didn’t seem that long to me. I frowned in confusion. Still, they did look different—prettier somehow. The girls waiting outside the shop gasped when they saw the transformation. “Wow, your skin looks so radiant!” “And your complexion—it’s glowing!” The younger girl—apparently called Ann—touched her flushed cheeks, embarrassed but pleased, and hid behind her sister. Mom grinned, helping the girls out the door with a touch of pride. “This is just the immediate effect,” she said. “The more you wear it, the better it gets. We only sell to girls recommended by regulars. Save up your money, and you can all buy one someday.” “But remember this.” Mom’s expression turned serious, almost eerie. “These fabrics are extraordinarily rare. You must treasure them. Wear them with care.” “Whatever you do, don’t let them tear again.”
That evening, my sister came home sobbing uncontrollably. It turned out that her boyfriend of four years had dumped her. The reason? He said she was ugly. “Mom! I can’t live like this anymore!” she wailed. “How is it that you’re so gorgeous, but my sister and I turned out like this? Are you even our real mom?” Mom avoided her gaze, brushing it off with a casual excuse. “Oh, don’t blame me—it’s your dad’s fault. He passed on all the bad genes to you.” But we’d never even met our dad. Not once in our entire lives. “I don’t care!” my sister screamed. “Mom, everyone says your silk nightgowns can make women beautiful! I want to wear one too! I want to be just as stunning as those girls next door—you know, the ones who work at the nail salon? I’ll show Jason what he’s missing!” She begged and pleaded, demanding a silk nightgown so she could “transform,” but Mom refused. She wouldn’t explain why, only mumbling something about it being “for her own good.” Of course, my sister wasn’t having any of it. That night, she dragged me out of bed, shaking me awake. “You’re coming with me. We’re stealing one of those nightgowns.” “I know where Mom hides them,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “They’re in the basement under the storage room. Once I get my hands on one, I’ll look just like Mom—beautiful, with a perfect body. Jason will regret ever leaving me!” She was already imagining her ex crawling back to her. I, on the other hand, was panicking. “What if Mom catches us?” I whispered, trying to talk her out of it. But she wouldn’t listen. The storage room was far scarier at night. When the hidden door creaked open, the narrow staircase leading to the basement was pitch black. We stood at the top, staring into the darkness. Neither of us dared to take the first step. Finally, the temptation to be beautiful won out, and my sister mustered up her courage. She ran her hands along the damp walls, making her way down blindly, step by step. Every few steps, she’d glance back at me, her face pale, as if she expected some terrible creature to leap out from the shadows and drag her away. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, either. I’d seen how other people cared for silk fabric—how they’d hang it out in the sun to keep it fresh and dry. So why did Mom’s silk nightgowns have to be stored in such a dark, creepy basement?
Suddenly, there was a loud bang from the basement. I jumped, my heart racing. “Sister! Are you okay?” I called down, ready to run after her. “Don’t come in!” she shouted back. “I’m fine! It’s just… ahhh!” “Did you fall? Are you hurt?” I could hear her voice, trembling and breathless, but instead of sounding hurt, she sounded… excited. “I’m fine!” she called back, her voice muffled. “I found them! Mom’s nightgowns! Don’t come down here—I’ll put one on and come back up, okay?” She told me to stand guard outside the basement door, making me promise not to let Mom catch her in the act. Before I could argue, she slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside. An hour passed. Then another. I was pacing back and forth, panicking. “Sister! Hurry up! Mom always wakes up early—if she catches us, I’m dead!” I banged on the door, whispering urgently. But she didn’t answer. Instead, strange noises started coming from the basement. Rustling, thudding, and—was that crying? “Sister? Are you okay? What’s going on in there?” I pressed my ear to the door, my hands clammy with sweat. For a moment, everything went quiet. Then, finally, I heard her voice again—weak and trembling. “I’m fine,” she said, though she sounded like she could barely breathe. “It’s just… this nightgown is too long. It’s really hard to put on. Don’t come in!” Her words didn’t match her tone. She sounded fragile, almost like she was running out of air. I couldn’t help but wonder—what was she doing in there? Curiosity got the better of me. I crouched down and peeked through a crack in the wooden door. At first, I couldn’t see anything. The basement was so dark that it felt like staring into a void. But as my eyes adjusted, I began to make out a blurry figure.
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