Mom had left money behind for Noah and me. Dad used to call it our “important-things fund.” College. Emergencies. Milestones. The kind of moments parents save for because they want their kids to feel protected, even if they aren’t there to see it.
Apparently Carla had her own definition of important.
When I brought up prom, she was in the kitchen scrolling through her phone like the rest of us were background noise.
“Prom is in three weeks,” I said. “I need a dress.”
She didn’t even look up at first. “Prom dresses are a ridiculous waste of money.”
“Mom left money for things like this.”
That made her glance at me. Not kindly. Just enough to let me know she’d heard me and planned to hurt me with it.
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