Mom’s hands flew to her face, her entire frame trembling.

She turned toward me with absolute shock and overwhelming love radiating from her expression.

One of them said clearly, “You actually bullied his mother? That’s seriously messed up, Brianna.”

Her social standing shattered like a dropped crystal.

But the universe wasn’t done delivering consequences.

Post prom, we gathered at home for a low-key celebration. Pizza boxes, metallic balloons, and sparkling cider covered the living room. Mom practically floated through the house, still wearing her gown, unable to stop beaming. Mike kept embracing her and expressing how proud he felt.

I’d somehow managed to heal something inside her that had been wounded for 18 years.

Then Brianna burst through the door, fury radiating from every pore, still dressed in her glittery disaster.