I thought wearing my grandma’s prom dress would help me say goodbye, until the tailor found something hidden in the hem that made me doubt everything she ever told me.My grandma died on my nineteenth birthday. Right when I ran in to show her the blueberry pie I finally baked without her help.he was sitting in her chair by the window, just like always. Same posture. Same blanket over her knees.“Grandma?” I stepped closer, my smile fading. “Hey… don’t do that.”I touched her hand.I don’t remember calling for help. I remember sitting on the floor, holding onto her sleeve, as if I let go, she’d disappear completely.People came, voices filled the house, and someone kept saying my name like I was far away.“She’s gone, honey,” a woman said gently.No, she’s just tired. She does this sometimes.”

But she didn’t.A few hours later, I sat at the kitchen table with Mrs. Kline, our neighbor, who smelled like lilac perfume so strong it made my head ache. She kept reaching for my hand, like she needed to make sure I was still there.“Oh, Emma…” she sighed. “I can’t believe Lorna’s gone. She was everything to you.”“She still is,” I said, staring at the pie I never got to show her.Mrs. Kline nodded, dabbing her eyes. “I remember when she brought you home. You were so small. Seven years old, holding onto her coat like you were afraid the world would take her too.”“It already took everything else.”“She never let you feel that,” Mrs. Kline said softly.I let out a short laugh. “She didn’t give me a choice.”Mrs. Kline leaned closer. “And it was true. But now… things are different.”I knew where that was going before she even said it.Emma, have you thought about the house?” Mrs. Kline asked carefully. “That place is a lot for one girl. Bills, repairs… you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. College, work—”She didn’t give me a