By afternoon, the story had spread through Kayla’s school.
But not the way Steven had threatened.
Nobody laughed at her.
Nobody called her the girl who ruined prom.
They called her brave.
Still, she didn’t go to the dance.
That night, we stayed home.
Ordered pizza.
Lit the fireplace.
Kayla wore an oversized sweatshirt and a soft pink scarf around her head.
Reese sat beside her.
Eventually Kayla asked,
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Are you mad at Reese?”
Reese looked down immediately.
I sat beside them.
“I was.”
Her eyes filled.
“But I’m not anymore.”
I touched Reese’s cheek.
“You should never have had to protect your sister from something this serious.”
She nodded.
“But I did.”
“Yes,” I said.
Then I pulled both girls into my arms.
