“I Wore My Father’s Uniform to Prom—They Didn’t Understand Until It Was Too Late”

Not loudly.

Worse—quiet, cutting laughs. The kind that stay with you.

“Is that supposed to be a dress?” one of them said.

I didn’t answer.

I just stood there.

Because if I said anything, I knew my voice would shake.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Not loud. Just… firm.

Everyone went quiet.

My stepmother opened it.