I Donated My Late Daughter's Prom Dress Twenty Years Ago – Last Week, Someone Knocked on My Door Wearing It

"I'm sorry."

"I can help arrange that."

"No soft language. No missing details."

"You have my word."

I held his gaze.

"Your word is why I'm here."

His face tightened.

"You have my word."

"You'll have it in writing."

When I got home, Tanya, Phoebe, and Holly were still in my kitchen.

Phoebe stood.

"I'll write everything."

Tanya nodded.

"So will I."

"You'll have it in writing."

I couldn't forgive them yet, but I could take the truth.

"That's where we start," I said. "Write the statements tonight."

***

The next morning, Madeline's card was still on the porch rail.

I carried it inside and set it down.

Minutes later, I called her.

"Hello?" she answered.

I couldn't forgive them yet.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. It's Olivia."

"You don't owe me that."

"I sent you away as if you'd done something cruel. You had no idea about any of it, Madeline. You had no idea how much grief I'd been holding on to."

"Maybe not, but I should've mailed the letter."

"Is the invitation still open?" I asked.

"You don't owe me that."

"For tea?"

"For whatever comes after it."

Madeline exhaled.

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