Carla stepped in behind me, steel in her voice. “We found a lot. Including your boutique receipt and that ATM withdrawal from this address.”

Linda’s smile hardened. “Excuse me?”

“Borrowed or theft, same thing,” Carla said. “You took a teenager’s money, bought your daughter a dress, and told her to skip the one night she’s dreamed of since her mother died. You sound like a poem I don’t want to read.”

Hailey paled. “Mom… you said—”

“I said what I needed to,” Linda snapped. “We have bills. She doesn’t need a dress to—”

“To feel like her life has sparkle?” Carla cut in. “That’s what my sister promised her daughter before she died. I was there.”

Linda’s face burned red. “You’re being dramatic.”

Dad’s voice broke. “And you’re going to give her the money. Or leave.”

Linda sputtered, grabbed her purse, and stormed out.

Hailey whispered, “I didn’t know. I swear.”

“I believe you,” I said.

Dad slumped onto the sofa. Carla put a hand on his shoulder. “You can be the dad she needs. Right now.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I should’ve protected you. And your mom’s memory.”

This time, I believed him.