I’m 17, and graduation night—the biggest moment of high school—is here. I’ve always dreamed of wearing my mom’s graduation dress, but she passed away from cancer when I was 12. That dress became my anchor. Years later, my dad remarried Stephanie, who only cared about appearances. She threw out my mom’s things, calling them “junk,” and replaced them with expensive furniture. The day before graduation, I was wearing my mom’s dress when Stephanie mocked me, saying I couldn’t wear it and forced me to choose a costly designer dress instead. On prom day, I found my mom’s dress ruined—torn and stained. Stephanie smiled, admitting she did it and told me to throw it away because she was “my mother now.” My grandmother rushed in, fixed the dress, and I proudly wore it that night. After prom, my dad stood by me, his eyes darkened, ready to make Stephanie regret what she did.

A Dress That Meant Everything Graduation night. At seventeen, it felt like the culmination of every late-night study session, every tear shed over impossible homework, every friendship that had survived …

I’m 17, and graduation night—the biggest moment of high school—is here. I’ve always dreamed of wearing my mom’s graduation dress, but she passed away from cancer when I was 12. That dress became my anchor. Years later, my dad remarried Stephanie, who only cared about appearances. She threw out my mom’s things, calling them “junk,” and replaced them with expensive furniture. The day before graduation, I was wearing my mom’s dress when Stephanie mocked me, saying I couldn’t wear it and forced me to choose a costly designer dress instead. On prom day, I found my mom’s dress ruined—torn and stained. Stephanie smiled, admitting she did it and told me to throw it away because she was “my mother now.” My grandmother rushed in, fixed the dress, and I proudly wore it that night. After prom, my dad stood by me, his eyes darkened, ready to make Stephanie regret what she did. Read More