By the night before prom, the dress was finally finished.
Nicole stood in front of the hallway mirror at her aunt’s house wearing it. The fabric carried every color her father had ever worn.
It wasn’t a designer dress.
But it fit perfectly.
And for the first time since the hospital phone call, Nicole felt like her father was still with her.
When prom night arrived, the ballroom glittered with lights and loud music. Students filled the room, excited for the night they had planned for months.
Nicole walked through the doors wearing her handmade dress.
The whispers began immediately.
Within seconds, someone said loudly, “Is that dress made from the janitor’s old clothes?”
Laughter followed.
The same kind of laughter Nicole had heard her entire childhood.
Students moved away from her, leaving a small empty space around her.
Nicole took a deep breath and said calmly, “Yes. I made this dress from my father’s shirts. He passed away a few months ago, and this is how I chose to honor him.”
For a moment, the room fell silent.
Then someone rolled their eyes and laughed again.
Nicole felt like she was eleven years old all over again, standing in a hallway hearing people mock her father.
She sat down quietly near the edge of the room, trying not to cry.
The Principal’s Speech
Just as the music was playing again, it suddenly stopped.
The DJ stepped away from the booth, confused.
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