The screen changed to the tribute slide. Mom’s photo appeared beside mine.
“No. It’s not just a dress.”
Not the sick version. The real Mom, laughing in the school auditorium.
Mrs. Chen’s voice softened. “Delilah wrote that her mom made this dress as one final gift.”
Every face turned toward Shirley.
She stood under the spotlight in a stolen copy of that gift.
“This is cruel,” Shirley said. “You’re all humiliating me.”
“Delilah wrote that her mom made this dress.”
Clothing
A mother near the punch table spoke clearly.
“You copied a dead woman’s dress to hurt her child.”
Shirley’s head snapped toward my father.
“Thomas. Do something.”
The whole room looked at my dad.
So did I.
“You copied a dead woman’s dress.”
For one awful second, I thought he would choose Shirley again.
Then he walked to me and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders.
Pregnancy & Maternity
“No one humiliated you, Shirley,” he said. “You did this yourself.”
Shirley’s mouth fell open. “I’m your wife.”
“And Delilah is my daughter,” Dad said. “I forgot what that meant. I’m not forgetting it again.”
“You did this yourself.”
I wiped my face.
“I needed you before 200 people had to see what she was doing to me.”
His eyes filled.
People & Society
“I know.”
It didn’t fix anything.
But it stopped the lie.
I wiped my face.
Then he turned back to Shirley.
“I let you take Kathy out of our house because I didn’t want to face how much I missed her. But you don’t get to punish my daughter for looking like her.”
Shirley stared at him. “You’ll regret this.”
Parenting
“No,” he said. “I already regret waiting this long.”
Mrs. Chen stepped to the microphone. “Shirley, this is a student event. You used it to hurt a grieving student. You need to leave.”
“You’ll regret this.”
