My stepmom laughed at the prom dress my little brother made for me out of our late mom’s jeans. By the end of the night, everyone knew exactly who she was.I am 17. My brother, Noah, is 15.Our mom died when I was 12. Dad remarried Carla two years later. Then Dad died last year from a heart attack, and the whole house changed overnight.She took over the bills, the accounts, the mail, everything. Mom had left money for Noah and me. Dad always said it was for “important things.” School. College. Big milestones.Apparently, Carla decided her definition of “important” was different.Prom came up a month ago.She was in the kitchen scrolling on her phone when I said, “Prom is in three weeks. I need a dress.”
“Mom left money for things like this.”That made her laugh. Not a real one. One of those little cruel ones.Then she finally looked at me and said, “That money keeps this house running now. And honestly? No one wants to see you prancing around in some overpriced princess costume.”Carla stood up so fast her chair scraped. “I am keeping this family afloat. You have no idea what things cost.””Then why did Dad say the money was ours?”Her voice went flat. “Because your father was bad with money and bad with boundaries.”I went upstairs and cried into my pillow like I was 12 again.I heard Noah lurking outside my door, apparently too scared to say anything.
