Chapter 1: The Price of What She Destroyed
The scissors were already open when I turned around, and the first bite of steel went through the tulle at my hip.
For five months, I had worked for that dress.
Weekends at the garden center on Route 9, hauling flats of petunias to strangers' porches. Friday evenings walking past the coffee shop without buying anything. Lunches packed from home. Old sneakers repaired instead of replaced.
Four dollars saved here. Twelve dollars saved there.
All for one morning.
The dress was pale blue silk, the exact color of the sky over the field behind our house at seven in the morning. It wasn't designer. It wasn't covered in diamonds. But it was mine.
And I had bought it with money nobody had handed me.
Mia dragged the scissors through the layers slowly.
"Stop!""
My voice barely came out.
She didn't even look at me.
The second cut went through the bodice. The third severed the delicate strap. Then she pulled the skirt apart, letting the pieces fall onto the carpet.
Forty tiny seed pearls scattered across the floor.
I had sewn those pearls back on myself after one came loose the night I brought the dress home.
Mia lifted the scissors.
"Honestly, it was ugly anyway.""
She wore a patterned crop top, designer jeans, and the gold necklace her mother had given her for her eighteenth birthday. Her nails were freshly done. Her makeup was perfect.
She looked like someone getting ready for a celebration.
I looked like someone watching five months of her life disappear.
"Why would you do that?"" I whispered.
Mia shrugged.
"Because you were making such a big deal about it.""
"It's my graduation dress.""
"And?""
"And I bought it!""
She rolled her eyes.
"Congratulations. You bought an ugly dress.""
I knelt and started collecting the beads.
One at a time.
I couldn't understand how someone could destroy something another person had worked so hard to earn and then look completely comfortable standing in the middle of the wreckage.
The bedroom door opened.
Renee stood there in her cream ceremony dress, gold hoops shining beneath her perfectly styled hair.
She looked at the floor.
Then at Mia.
Then at me.
"What's going on?""
Mia immediately lowered her voice.
"She started yelling at me.""
I stared at her.
"You cut my dress!""
Renee sighed as though I had interrupted something important.
"Don't yell at my daughter over a piece of cheap fabric.""
"Cheap?""
I held up a torn piece of silk.
"I worked five months for this.""
"Nobody asked you to spend that much money on a dress.""
"I didn't spend that much. I saved—"
"I don't care what you did.""
Renee stepped beside Mia and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
My stepsister leaned into her mother.
Actually leaned into her.
As if she were the injured one.
"You need to learn how to share this house," Renee continued.
"Mia has enough stress today without you creating drama.""
"It's my graduation.""
"And she's graduating from high school too. You're not the only person having a special day.""
Mia smiled.
It was small, almost invisible.
But I saw it.
Then came the footsteps in the hallway.
Dad.
He appeared in the doorway wearing his dark-grey shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His black watch was the one I'd bought him three Christmases earlier with my first summer paycheck.
He looked at the carpet.
At the ruined dress.
At the scissors.
Then his eyes moved toward the side table.
Mia's new handbag sat there.
Brown coated canvas. Tan leather straps. The famous monogram pattern.
Three thousand dollars.
She had left the receipt on the kitchen counter two weeks earlier, making sure everyone saw it.
Dad walked across the room.
He picked up the scissors.
Opened them.
Closed them.
The sound made Mia straighten.
"Dad?"" she said.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he placed his other hand on the handbag.
"Whose is this?""
Mia glanced at Renee.
Renee's expression changed.
"Don't.""
Dad looked at her.
"I asked a question.""
"It's Mia's bag," Renee replied.
"How much?""
"Why does that matter?""
"How much, Renee?""
Mia crossed her arms.
"Three thousand. It's not like I stole it.""
Dad nodded slowly.
Then he looked at me.
"How much was your dress?""
I swallowed.
"Six hundred and forty dollars.""
"How long did you save?""
"Five months.""
He looked down at the silk.
"Did you ask anyone for money?""
"No.""
"Did you use your college savings?""
"No.""
He turned back toward Mia.
"Did you buy this bag with your own money?""
Mia laughed.
"Mom bought it for me.""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"And where did that money come from?""
Renee stepped forward.
"Daniel, not now.""
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then he picked up the handbag.
Mia's expression changed immediately.
"Hey! What are you doing?""
"Checking something.""
"Put it down!""
He turned the bag over.
There was a small white envelope tucked into the outer pocket. The receipt.
Dad pulled it out.
His eyes moved across the printed numbers.
Then he did something I hadn't expected.
He looked at the date.
His face went completely still.
"Renee," he said quietly, "you told me this money was for the house.""
Renee's lips parted.
"Daniel, listen—"
"Three thousand dollars.""
"It was a gift.""
"From whom?""
Mia stepped between them.
"Why are you interrogating Mom? She bought me something nice. That's what parents do.""
Dad folded the receipt and slipped it into his shirt pocket.
Then he placed the handbag on the bed.
"Nobody touches anything else in this room.""
Renee laughed nervously.
"You're making a ridiculous scene.""
"No," Dad replied.
"I think I've been making a ridiculous mistake for a very long time.""
He looked at me.
"Get your shoes. We're going downstairs.""
I glanced at the destroyed dress.
"What about this?""
He looked at the pieces of silk scattered across the carpet.
"We'll take care of it.""
Mia scoffed.
"You're seriously choosing her over us?""
Dad stopped at the doorway.
He turned around.
"That's an interesting question, Mia.""
Then he looked directly at Renee.
"Especially considering what I just found out.""
And for the first time in four years, my stepmother looked afraid of my father.
But I didn't yet know why.
Because the handbag wasn't the only thing Dad had discovered.
May you like
There was something much worse hidden inside that receipt.
And he had just recognized the name printed beneath the store's address.
