A week before my final school dance, my prom, Jane stepped into the role of evil stepmother.

My dad married Jane six years ago, long after he and my mother separated. When Jane moved in, so did her daughter, Amy.
“You and Amy are the same age,” my dad said. “I think you two will get along really well.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “She’s barely said a word to me.”

“Elsa,” Dad said. “Give it time.”

Jane enrolled Amy at my school because it was closer to home, and she thought it would give us something to bond over.

But instead of bonding, Amy and Jane seemed to go out of their way to make my life miserable. They criticized everything I did, from the way I dressed to the friends I had.

As the prom approached, I was determined to make it a night to remember. I spent weeks searching for the perfect dress, finally finding one that made me feel like a princess.

But just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, disaster struck.

One evening, as I was studying in my room, I heard raised voices coming from downstairs. Curious, I crept down to listen.

“You can’t wear that dress to prom,” Jane was saying, her tone sharp.

“Why not?” I heard Amy reply.

“Because it’s too revealing,” Jane snapped. “You’ll embarrass yourself and everyone else.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized they were talking about my prom dress. I had chosen it carefully, making sure it was elegant and classy, but apparently, it wasn’t good enough for them.

Determined not to let them ruin my night, I went back to my room and hid the dress in the back of my closet, hoping they wouldn’t find it.

But when I went to retrieve it the next day, my heart sank.

My beautiful prom dress lay in tatters on the floor, ripped to pieces by a pair of scissors.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I realized what had happened. Jane and Amy had deliberately destroyed my dress, determined to ruin my prom.

I felt like screaming, like lashing out at them for their cruelty. But instead, I picked up the ruined dress and went to find my dad.

When I showed him what had happened, his face turned white with rage.

“I’ll deal with this,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

True to his word, Dad confronted Jane and Amy, demanding an explanation for their actions. But instead of apologizing, they denied everything, accusing me of making it up.

But Dad wasn’t fooled. He knew the truth, and he wasn’t about to let them get away with it.

In the end, Dad took me shopping for a new dress, one even more beautiful than the first. And on the night of the prom, he was there to see me off, his eyes shining with pride.

As I danced the night away, surrounded by friends and laughter, I realized that nothing Jane and Amy did could ever take away the magic of that moment.

Because in the end, it wasn’t the dress that made the night special.

It was the love and support of my dad, who had always been there for me, no matter what.