The microphone trembled in my hands.
The entire ballroom had gone silent.
Behind me, silver streamers shimmered beneath the gymnasium lights. Teenagers in tuxedos and glittering dresses stood frozen near their tables. Parents stared openly. Teachers exchanged uneasy glances.
And there I was—
A seventy-year-old woman standing in the middle of prom wearing a dead girl’s dress.
My granddaughter’s dress.
…
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
