“Mom?” Rosie stopped turning and looked at me. You’re putting that face on.
“What the face, honey?”
“The worried.”
I left the tea and stood up. “Come here. Let’s put that dress on you.”
He followed me down the hallway humming. I lowered the zipper to the light blue dress that we had found in liquidation and carefully slipped it over my shoulders.
“You look like a princess,” I whispered.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
Then Steven walked to her. The whole room seemed to slow down.
She let out a chuckle and reached back to raise the zipper. My fingers trembled a little when I climbed it.
“Mom, you’re crying.”
“Tears of joy, honey.”
In the mirror, Rosie smiled radiantly at her reflection, as if the world had finally given her a chance. I kissed his neck and prayed quietly so that the boy would be exactly as he looked.
And somewhere behind prayer, a quieter thought I refused to name kept asking why.
***
The gym had become something out of a fairy tale. I stood by the wall in the background, grabbing my bag. Rosie waited near the dance floor in her beautiful dress; her silver shoes shone with the light every time she moved.
Then Steven walked to her. The whole room seemed to slow down.
For a fleeting moment, I felt hope.
He stopped in front of my daughter and bowed, with one hand carefully resting on her chest.
“Do you grant me this dance?”
Rosie’s mouth lit up with the widest smile I’d ever seen.
“Yes,” he whispered. Yeah, you can.
Steven took his hand like it was glass. They headed to the center of the track and the DJ played slow, sweet music.
I watched them turn. One, two, three, turn. Just like she had practiced in the kitchen.
Some girls near the punch cheered softly. A teacher wiped away tears. For a moment, I felt hope. I sat at the empty table beside me and finally exhaled.
I should have hung him, but when I picked him up, something peeked out of my pocket.
That’s when Steven’s jacket slipped from the back of the chair next to mine. I had seen him hang it there before I approached my daughter.
I leaned automatically to lift it off the ground. My fingers grazed something hard inside the inner pocket.
I should have hung him, but when I picked it up, I saw something popping out of my pocket. I shook my hand and found a small USB stick, a wad of folded printed photographs and a sealed red envelope with three words written with black marker.
AFTER THEY LAUGH.
My breath was cut off somewhere behind the ribs.
“Shut up for the sake of your daughter.”
I took the photos enough to see the one above, and my stomach stirred. It was Rosie, crying in a bathroom cubicle with her knees glued to her chest.
