She remains silent but nods. I watch her as she walks through her closet and picks out a dress for herself. She must have done this a hundred times, because she is way quicker than me. Her hair is pulled into a French twist and a few of her platinum blond pieces are framing her face. Her dress is made of emerald silk, fitted on the top and slowly flowing out. She combines it with a silver necklace with a diamond hanging from it, matching with the droplets in her ears.