Linda turned toward me, her expression all bright and warm. “And you, sweetheart, can borrow one of my cocktail dresses. We can hem it, glam it up. Practical, right?”

“I’ve been saving for mine,” I said, lifting my brows.

Linda blinked, then gave me a sympathetic smile that twisted my stomach. “Oh, honey. I thought you were saving for college. Because prom is just one night. Tuition lasts forever.”

My stomach dropped.

I tried to keep steady. “I still want to choose my own dress.”

She waved me off like I was a kid begging for another scoop of ice cream. “You’ll thank me later.”

I headed upstairs, chest tight. I just needed to see my can, touch the lid, remind myself it was still there.

But when I reached under my bed—nothing.

I checked again. Still nothing.

My hands shook as I tore through the room. Closet? No. Desk drawers? No. Behind the bookshelf? Nothing.