My mother let out a quiet breath, like she’d been holding it. “Of course,” she said lightly. “We just want Emma to feel special.”
I folded the dress carefully, keeping the lining hidden inside, and placed it back into the gift bag as if nothing was wrong.
Emma watched me, confused, but she trusted my expression. She returned to her cake and candles, and I kept the party moving with a calm I didn’t feel.
Because the instant my fingers touched that concealed object, I understood something clearly:
This wasn’t accidental.
It was deliberate.
It was a test.
And if I reacted right then, they’d know exactly how much I understood.
So I waited.
That night, after the guests left and Emma fell asleep hugging her new stuffed bear, I locked myself in the bathroom and carefully opened the lining the rest of the way.
I held my breath until I could see it clearly.
