When Lily walked downstairs 20 minutes later, she was wearing the dress I’d made. The one I’d sewn with tired fingers and a hopeful heart. The one that fit her perfectly because I’d made it specifically for her body, personality, and dreams.
“Oh my God! You look… beautiful! I said, my eyes misting as I watched my girl descend the stairs like a princess.
“Are you sure, honey?” I asked, caught between joy and disbelief.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Mom!” She smiled, then held out her phone. “Look what Cassandra posted.”
On the screen was a photo of the dress, still in the bag and the caption: “Can’t wait to see my girl in her dream dress tonight! 💅🏻“
“Yeah… she’s in for a surprise!” Lily said, and hugged me tight. “Can you drop me off at school tonight?”
“Sure, sweetie. Sure!”
When we pulled up near the school gym entrance, we saw Cassandra. She was dressed like she was attending a gala, surrounded by two perfectly curated friends, scanning the crowd.
“Oh God,” Lily muttered under her breath. “Of course she showed up.”
We parked, and Lily touched up her lip gloss using the side mirror. She stepped out of the car, and that’s when Cassandra spotted her.
Cassandra’s face fell. “That’s NOT the dress I got you.”
My daughter stopped, cool as ice. “Nope! I wore the one my mom made!”
A shaken woman | Source: Pexels
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