“You did this to yourself,” I said.
Then she pointed at Noé.
“And you, you little sneak… with this sewing nonsense.”
Noé flinched.
But for the first time in a year, she didn’t stay silent.
She stood in front of me and said:
“Don’t call me that.”
Karla laughed.
“Or what?”
Noé’s voice trembled, but she finished what she was saying.
“Nothing. That’s exactly the point. You do it because you think no one will stop you.”
Karla was about to interrupt, but Noé raised his voice.
“You’ve made fun of everything. Mom, Dad, me for sewing. Her too, because she wanted a normal evening. You just take and take, and then you get offended when someone notices.”
I’d never heard him speak like that.
Karla looked at me.
“Do you let him talk to me like that?”
“Yes,” I said.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
The lawyer was standing in the doorway, with Tessa’s mom beside him. They had come straight from school.
The lawyer told us that, given the statements made that evening and our previous concerns, we couldn’t be left without support during the court review, and they wouldn’t leave us alone with Karla while they looked into the guardianship and the trust fund.
Karla just stared.
Tessa’s mom walked past her as if she weren’t even there and said to us:
“Pack a bag.”
We did just that.
Three weeks later, Noé and I moved in with our aunt. Two months later, they took control of the money away from Karla. She fought for it, but she lost.
The dress is hanging in my closet now.
One of the teachers took a picture of it and sent it to the director of a local arts program. Noé was invited to a summer design workshop. For a day, he pretended not to care, then I caught him smiling at the email.
Sometimes I still run my fingers over the seams.
Karla wanted everyone to laugh at me when they saw what I was wearing. Instead, it was the first night people actually saw us.