I Sewed My Prom Dress From My Dad’s Work Shirts—They Laughed at Me, Until the Principal Took the Mic and the Room Fell Silent
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Each shirt carried a memory: the one he wore on my first day of high school, the faded green from when he ran alongside my bike, the gray from the day he hugged me after my worst junior year meltdown. The dress became a catalog of him.
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