The microphone picked up the word.
Mrs. Howard calmly explained that Shirley had visited her store weeks earlier with photographs of a powdered pink dress and had requested an exact copy.
Shirley denied everything immediately.
Mrs. Howard opened the folder.
“These are the log images of that quote.
Photos appeared on the big screen.
The mirror in my room.
My closet.
Mom’s dress bag.
A stunned murmur spread across the gym.
Shirley laughed nervously.
It’s just a dress.
Mrs. Chen stepped forward.
“No. It’s not.
The screen changed.
A picture of Mom appeared.
Not a mom during her illness.
Mom laughing inside the school auditorium years ago.
Mrs. Chen explained that my mother had sewn my graduation dress as the last gift before she died.
Now everyone understood.
Shirley didn’t wear a similar dress by chance.
Había copiado deliberadamente el último regalo de una mujer moribunda a su hija.
—¡Esto es cruel! —gritó Shirley—. ¡Me están humillando!
Una mujer cerca de la pista de baile respondió en voz alta:
“You copied a dead woman’s dress to hurt her daughter.
Shirley turned to Dad.
Thomas! Do something!
Every person in the room looked at him.
Me too.
For a terrible second, I hoped I would defend Shirley again.
Instead, Dad walked towards me.
He took off his jacket and put it on my shoulders.
Then he looked at Shirley.
