My Stepmom Destroyed My Late Mom’s Prom Dress – But She Never Expected My Father Would Teach Her a Lesson
The satin was ripped straight down the seam. The bodice was stained with a dark, sticky substance that resembled coffee. And the embroidered flowers were smudged with something resembling black ink. I dropped to my knees, clutching the ruined fabric.
“No… no,” I whispered, over and over again.
Then I heard her.
“Oh. You found it.”
Stephanie leaned in the doorway with a smug expression. Her voice was syrupy sweet. “I warned you not to be so stubborn.”
I turned slowly, my hands still trembling. “You… did this?”
She stepped into the room, looking me over like I was an eyesore. “I couldn’t let you humiliate us. What were you thinking? You were going to show up looking like a ghost from the bargain bin.”
“It was my mom’s,” I choked out. “It’s all I have left of her.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Now, I’m your mother! Enough with this obsession! I gave you a brand-new designer gown. One that actually belongs in this century.”
