Chapter 2
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The ruined purse sat open on my bed. My dress lay beside it, blue fabric scattered like something that had been hurt.
Mia looked at Dad as if she couldn’t decide whether to cry or attack him.
“You can’t do that,” she said.
“I can.”
“It was mine.”
“And the dress was hers.”
“You’re acting like I killed somebody.”
“No,” Dad said. “I’m acting like you chose to destroy something that mattered to your sister.”
Vanessa stepped between them. “David, you’re upset. Let’s not make this worse.”
“I’m not the one who cut the dress.”
Mia’s face tightened. “She’s always the victim. You see that, right? She gets upset, and suddenly the whole house has to stop.”
I wanted to tell her she was wrong. I wanted to tell her about the years I’d spent swallowing every insult so Vanessa wouldn’t accuse me of trying to break up their family.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Dad noticed.
He looked at me and lowered his voice. “Can you still wear it?”
I stared at the torn skirt.
“No.”
“Could it be fixed?”
“Not before the ceremony.”
He nodded once, accepting the answer without asking me to make it easier for him.
“I’ll get you something else.”
“I don’t want you to have to.”
“I know. I’m still going to.”
Vanessa let out an irritated breath. “There is a dress in Mia’s closet she can borrow.”
“I’m not lending her anything,” Mia said.
Dad glanced at the cut purse. “I don’t think you’re in a position to set terms.”
“She’ll stretch it.”
“I won’t wear her clothes,” I said.
Both of them looked at me.
The sudden attention made my skin prickle.
“I don’t want anything from her.”
Dad took a slow breath. “You don’t have to. Let me find a solution.”
He picked up his phone and called the tailor who had altered his work suits. The shop was closing early for the holiday, but the woman who answered said she would wait if we came right away.
Dad looked at me. “Do you want to try?”
I glanced at the clock. One hour and forty minutes.
“Maybe she can fix the sleeve.”
“We’ll take it.”
I gathered the dress. The ruined sections dragged across my wrist.
Vanessa stepped aside, but Mia did not.
“Move,” Dad told her.
Mia’s eyes flashed. “You’re choosing her.”
“I’m choosing not to pretend this is okay.”
“You’ve been choosing her since she got here.”
The words landed hard.
Dad did not answer right away.
That pause told me he’d heard something beneath the accusation.
Vanessa’s face went cold. “Mia is upset. She said something she didn’t mean.”
“She means it,” I said.
Mia turned toward me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you knew how much that dress meant.”
“You’re not special because your mother died.”
The hallway went silent.
Dad stepped forward. “Enough.”
Mia’s chin lifted. “What? You can destroy my stuff, but I can’t say the truth?”
“That is not the truth.”
“You make everything about her.”
Vanessa touched Mia’s shoulder. “Go to your room.”
“Why? So you two can whisper about me?”
“No,” Dad said. “So Aaliyah can get ready without you trying to hurt her again.”
Mia turned and stormed across the hall. Her bedroom door slammed.
Vanessa gave Dad a look full of accusation.
“You are going to regret this.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But not because I stopped her.”
We drove to the tailor in silence. Dad kept both hands on the steering wheel. I held the dress across my lap, careful not to let the cut fabric slide onto the floor.
At a red light, he said, “I should have seen how bad things were.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“You shouldn’t have to tell me someone cut your clothes.”
“I thought Mia was just being mean.”
“How long has it been like this?”
I watched the houses pass beyond the windshield.
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I got used to it.”
Dad’s grip tightened.
“Did Vanessa know?”
“I don’t know.”
He glanced at me but didn’t press.
The tailor, Mrs. Alvarez, took one look at the dress and pulled her glasses from the chain around her neck. She examined each cut without touching the fabric.
“I can make it wearable,” she said. “I cannot make it look the way it did.”
“What can you do?” Dad asked.
“Turn the damaged side into a gathered panel. Remove the torn sleeve. Add a shoulder drape from the fabric left at the hem. It will look intentional if I move quickly.”
“Can you?” I asked.
She smiled softly. “I’ve rescued worse.”
Dad offered to pay whatever it cost.
Mrs. Alvarez shook her head. “She earned that dress. I’m charging for materials and my time, not for the emergency.”
While she worked, Dad took me to a department store. We found a simple black dress with a fitted waist and a soft skirt. It looked good, but it didn’t feel like mine.
I bought it anyway.
The graduation ceremony began at four. Dad and I reached the school with fifteen minutes to spare.
Vanessa and Mia were already there.
Mia sat in the front row beside Vanessa, her purse held carefully on her lap. The cut strap had been replaced with a plain black one.
She saw me in the new dress.
Her smile returned.
“Nice,” she said. “Much better than the blue one.”
I turned away.
Dad guided me toward the graduates. He held out the white flowers.
“You look like your mother.”
For the first time that day, I felt my eyes burn.
“Thank you.”
When the principal called my name, Dad stood up before anyone else.
He cheered loudly.
I crossed the stage. The diploma felt light in my hands, but I carried more than paper back to my seat.
When I looked into the crowd, Dad was still standing.
Mia wasn’t clapping.
Vanessa was.
Her expression looked pleasant, but her gaze stayed fixed on Dad.
That night, I put the diploma on my desk beside the torn dress. Mrs. Alvarez had managed to save it, but the skirt now fell in uneven folds, and one sleeve had been transformed into a soft cape over my shoulder.
It was beautiful.
It was different.
It was mine again.
Dad knocked on my open door.
“Can we talk?”
I sat on the edge of my bed. “Sure.”
He held a small wooden box. I recognized it from the top shelf of his closet.
It had belonged to my mother.
“I should have given this to you earlier.”
“What is it?”
“Something your mother left.”
He set it on the bed.
Inside was a gold chain with a small silver pendant shaped like a star.
Dad lowered his eyes.
“She wanted you to have it when you graduated.”
I touched the pendant.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I had more time.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
I closed my fingers around the chain.
Dad looked at the ruined fabric.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to Vanessa.”
May you like
“About the dress?”
“About everything.”
