Betty sat on the living room couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders, staring blankly at the TV. The volume was low, just enough to mask the eerie silence of the house, the kind of quiet that came with loss—a stillness that seeped into every corner.
Stacey stepped in, carrying two large garment bags draped over her arm and a mischievous smile on her face.
"What’s that?" Betty asked, already suspicious.
"Dresses." Stacey hold the bags up like a prize.
"Dresses for what?"
"Prom," Stacey dropped the bags onto the couch.
Betty immediately shook her head. "I’m not going, Stacey. I can’t."
"Why not?" Stacey challenged, crossing her arms.
"Because I don’t belong there. Do you really think I’m up for a night of people staring at me like I’m some kind of joke?"
"Dad wanted this for us. Don’t you want to feel alive, even just for one night?"
Betty’s defenses crumbling at the mention of their father.
Stacey unzipped one of the bags and reveal a sleek, deep green gown with delicate beading along the neckline. "Just try it. For me. For him."
***
In her bedroom, Betty stood stiffly in front of the mirror, her fingers brushing the fabric of the dress. The gown fit snugly, hugging her curves in a way she wasn’t used to. She frowned, tugging at the hem.
Stacey, already in her own shimmering gold dress, stepped in behind her. "You look gorgeous."
"I look like I don’t belong in it."
Stacey moved closer, standing behind her sister and meeting her eyes in the mirror. "You belong in the spotlight, Betty. Let me help you see it."
Betty’s throat tightened, emotion swelling in her chest.
"I’ll go," she said, her voice quiet but certain. "But only if you promise not to ditch me halfway through."
Stacey laughed. "Deal."
***
Later that night, in the dim light of her room, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Betty picked it up, her stomach twisting when she saw Marcus’s name.
Marcus: You okay? I heard about your dad. If you need to get away from all of this, I’m here.
Betty stared at the message. She wanted to respond, but she didn’t know what to say. Her fingers hovered over the screen.