Chapter 3 - The Spotlight
On prom night I stood at the front door for a long time before I could make myself open it. Then I zipped up the dress, pressed my thumb against that hidden V in the hem, and reminded myself what I'd promised her.
Theo took one look at me on the porch and told me I looked incredible. For the first hour, it was easy. We stood near the punch bowl with our friends, laughing about nothing, just teenagers at a dance.
Then the parent chaperones started filing in through the side doors of the gym.
I turned around, and every bit of warmth left my face.
Denise was wearing my dress. Not a similar cut. Not a close color. A flawless copy — the same dusty pink, the same neckline, the same hand-folded flowers, right down to the last stitch.
She didn't pretend otherwise. She walked straight across the floor to me, smiling, and leaned in so only I could hear.
"You really thought you were going to be the special one tonight, didn't you?" she said. "Look at you. You're a copy of a dead woman, sweetheart. Now everybody in this room can see it."
I turned to my father, who was standing a few feet behind her.
"Dad. Take her home. Please."
He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Lower your voice, Laney," he said quietly. "Do not do this here. Don't make a scene in front of all these people."
Around us, students and parents had stopped talking. A few kids laughed nervously because they had no clue what they were actually watching. All I could think about were my mother's hands moving over those flowers while she was dying in that living room.
My eyes filled. I turned toward the exit.
Theo caught my arm.
"Don't move," he said. "I've got this."
He walked over to Denise wearing the most harmless, friendly smile I'd ever seen on him.
"Wow, Denise," he said. "You look great tonight."
She stood up a little straighter.
"Actually," Theo went on, "we're doing a quick shoutout for the best-dressed parent in the room. Would you come up on stage for a second?"
Her whole face lifted. She had no idea what he was doing. She thought she was finally getting the one thing she showed up for — a crowd, a spotlight, everyone looking at her.
She followed him toward the stage without a second of hesitation, climbed the steps, and walked into the light like she was there to accept an award.
Theo stepped over to the DJ booth and picked up the microphone. The music dropped out. Nearly two hundred people went quiet at once.
"Everybody, let's hear it for Denise," he said, his voice flat and clear through the speakers. "Who copied a dying woman's handmade prom dress down to the very last thread just to terrorize a teenager."
Denise froze.
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For a second she just stood there in the spotlight, working out what she'd heard. Then her face came apart and she screamed into the microphone's feedback, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"
The murmur that went through that gym was like a wave. I have never seen anyone look so exposed.
