Forbidden Fruit

Leonie craned her neck to catch sight of herself in the mirror,
and caught her breath, her lips parting in an audible gasp. She
didn't recognise the slender girl in the floating white dress; it
was a stranger standing there. Oh, she knew the silvery fair hair
which she often wished less fine, the oval face it framed, the
skin she always felt was too pale, the widely spaced dark blue
eyes. Her familiar features looked back at her, sure enough; and
yet there was a disorientating sense of unfamiliarity. Could a
dress make that much difference?