Tessa looked directly at her.
“I’d rather wear something made with love than something bought with money stolen from kids.”
The hallway instantly fell silent.
Carla glared at her.
“Get out of my sight.”
Prom night finally arrived. Noah helped zip the dress while nervously avoiding eye contact.
“If anybody laughs,” he said quietly, “I’m haunting them forever.”
Tessa laughed.
“Deal.”
Carla insisted on attending, claiming she wanted to see “how the disaster turned out.”
On the way there, Tessa overheard her speaking on the phone.
“You need to come early,” Carla whispered. “You have to see this.”
Tessa prepared herself for humiliation.
But it never came.
Instead, people admired the dress.
Students asked where she had bought it. Teachers touched the fabric and complimented the design. People were fascinated that it had been handmade.
Still, Tessa remained tense, expecting the moment things would go wrong.
Later in the evening, during school announcements, the principal stood on stage addressing the crowd. Suddenly, he paused and looked toward the back of the room.
