Chapter 1: Six Months in Pieces
"I did you a favor. It was ugly anyway.""
Mia's voice reached me before my mind could understand what I was seeing.
My graduation dress was spread across my bed.
Or what was left of it.
The soft emerald fabric I'd saved six months to buy had been cut from neckline to hem. One sleeve lay on the carpet. The skirt had been sliced into long, useless strips.
And beside it sat a pair of silver scissors.
I couldn't move.
In forty-five minutes, I was supposed to walk across the stage at Westbrook High School and receive my diploma.
Instead, I stood in my bedroom staring at six months of sacrifice scattered across my comforter.
I had skipped lunches.
Turned down movie nights.
Worked Saturday mornings at Bellman's Bakery.
Every tip I'd earned had gone into an envelope hidden behind my textbooks.
The dress wasn't designer.
It wasn't even particularly expensive.
But it was mine.
I'd bought it myself.
"Mia..."" My voice cracked.
"Why?""
My stepsister leaned against the doorway, arms folded.
At eighteen, Mia could make cruelty look casual. Her dark hair was freshly curled for graduation, and the gold bracelet her mother had given her glittered against her wrist.
She shrugged.
"You were going to embarrass yourself.""
"You cut it?""
"I improved your options.""
I stared at her.
Then my stepmother, Vanessa, appeared behind her.
For one foolish second, relief rushed through me.
"Vanessa, look what she did.""
Vanessa glanced at the bed.
Her expression barely changed.
"Mia," she sighed.
That was it.
Not horror.
Not anger.
Just annoyance that she'd been dragged into the situation.
"She destroyed my graduation dress!""
"Stop being dramatic, Ava.""
I actually laughed.
One broken, disbelieving sound.
"She used scissors on it.""
"Mia was just being honest," Vanessa snapped.
"That color never suited you.""
My eyes burned.
"This wasn't hers to touch.""
Mia stepped farther into my room.
"God, Ava. It's fabric.""
"No. It's six months of my life.""
Her smile faded slightly.
Maybe because I wasn't screaming.
Maybe because I wasn't giving her the scene she wanted.
I picked up one piece of the skirt.
My hands shook.
"You knew how much this meant to me.""
Mia rolled her eyes.
"You always make everything about you.""
That sentence almost took my breath away.
For years, I'd learned how to become smaller inside my own house.
After Dad married Vanessa when I was thirteen, I tried desperately to make our blended family work.
I shared my bathroom with Mia.
Loaned her clothes.
Helped her study.
Covered for her when she came home late.
And every time she crossed another boundary, Vanessa found a reason it was somehow my fault.
Mia borrowed something without asking?
I should learn to share.
Mia insulted me?
I was too sensitive.
Mia ruined my birthday dinner by throwing a tantrum?
She was "adjusting.""
But this was different.
This was graduation.
My mother had died when I was eleven.
Before she died, she used to tell me that graduation wasn't just about school.
"It's proof you kept going, Ava.""
I remembered those words while holding the shredded fabric.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
Mia noticed.
Her smile returned.
"Seriously? You're crying?""
Vanessa exhaled sharply.
"Stop crying, Ava. You'll ruin your makeup.""
I wiped my face.
Then I heard footsteps.
Heavy.
Slow.
Coming down the hallway.
Vanessa's expression changed first.
Mia turned.
My father appeared behind them.
Dad had left twenty minutes earlier because he'd forgotten the camera battery in his truck.
Apparently, he'd come back.
And judging by his face, he'd heard enough.
"Dad..."" I whispered.
He didn't answer.
His eyes moved from me...
to the scissors...
to the destroyed dress.
Then to Mia.
"What happened?""
Mia opened her mouth.
Vanessa jumped in.
"Just a little disagreement between the girls.""
Dad looked at her.
"A disagreement?""
"Richard, we're going to be late.""
He walked to my bed and lifted a strip of emerald fabric.
"Who did this?""
Nobody spoke.
Dad turned toward Mia.
"Who. Did. This?""
Mia swallowed.
"It was ugly.""
Dad's face went strangely calm.
The kind of calm that made Vanessa straighten.
"Mia," he said quietly, "did you cut Ava's dress?""
Mia crossed her arms.
"Yeah. So?""
Something changed in Dad's eyes.
He placed the fabric down carefully.
Then he walked past all of us.
Straight into Mia's bedroom.
"What are you doing?"" Vanessa demanded.
Dad ignored her.
Seconds later, he returned carrying Mia's prized designer leather bag.
The one Vanessa had bought her for her eighteenth birthday.
The one Mia claimed cost nearly three thousand dollars.
Mia's face drained of color.
"DON'T TOUCH THAT!""
Dad held it by the strap.
Suddenly, the smirk was gone.
She rushed toward him.
"What are you doing?""
Dad looked directly into her eyes.
Then he said six words that silenced the entire hallway.
May you like
"I'm teaching you what value means.""
And he reached for the scissors.
