Three weeks later, Noah and I moved in with our aunt.
Two months after that, control of the money was taken away from Carla.
She fought it.
She lost.
And Noah?
One of the teachers had sent photos of the dress to a local arts director. That led to an invitation to a summer design program. He acted annoyed about it for a full day before I caught him smiling at the acceptance email when he thought nobody was looking.
The dress is still hanging in my closet.
Sometimes I touch the seams. The pockets. The faded pieces of denim that used to belong to Mom and now belong to one of the bravest nights of my life.
