That night, I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through thrift-store listings, when Grandpa came in smelling of motor oil.
He sat next to me, glanced at my screen, and put an arm around my shoulders.
« Sweetheart, I’ll make sure you have the most beautiful dress. »
I shook my head.
« Grandpa, no. Please don’t touch your savings. I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. A thrift-store dress is going to make me perfectly happy. »