Mom faced everything alone after that. College applications went in the trash. Her prom dress stayed in the store. Graduation parties happened without her. She juggled crying kids she babysat for neighbors, worked graveyard shifts at a truck stop diner, and cracked open GED textbooks after I’d finally dozed off.

When I was growing up, she’d sometimes mention her “almost-prom” with this forced laugh, the kind people use when they’re burying pain under humor. She’d say stuff like, “At least I avoided a terrible prom date!” But I always caught the sadness that flashed in her eyes before she’d redirect the conversation.

Mom found out she was pregnant during her junior year.

The guy who got her pregnant?

He vanished the second she told him.

This year, as my own prom approached, something clicked in my brain. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was sentimental. But it felt absolutely right.

I was going to give her the prom she never got.