Yesterday, I came home earlier from school, and my stomach sank.

I saw my prom dress cut into pieces, lying in a heap on the floor. “Mom, what’s wrong?” my stepmother asked, feigning concern. “My dress!” I screamed, tears welling up in my eyes. “Oh, it was that dress?” she replied nonchalantly. “You did this?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Yes, I just thought that was second-hand junk and I cut it to make window cleaning rags,” she said, her tone dripping with insincerity. I started crying uncontrollably, clutching the remnants of my beautiful dress. Then she smirked and whispered, “Plus, you can’t be more beautiful at prom than my daughter.” The very next moment, her face went pale. I heard my dad’s voice from behind us: “What did you just say?!” He stormed into the room, his face a mask of fury. “Did you really do this, Angela? Did you ruin her dress out of spite?” Angela stammered, trying to backtrack. “I… I didn’t mean… It was just an old dress…” “Old dress?” My father interrupted, his voice shaking with anger. “That was a brand-new dress, bought with money Kate saved for months. You destroyed it out of jealousy!” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “No, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve crossed a line, Angela. This behavior is unacceptable.” He turned to me, his expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I promise we’ll make this right.” Angela, realizing she was cornered, tried a different approach. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t realize how much the dress meant to you.” But I could see through her act. Her insincere apology did nothing to heal the pain she had caused. My dad, still furious, said, “We’re going out to buy a new dress right now. And Angela, you’ll be the one paying for it.” Angela’s eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t dare to argue. She knew she had no defense. As my dad and I left for the store, I felt a surge of relief and gratitude. Despite the terrible ordeal, I knew my father had my back. He wasn’t going to let Angela’s pettiness ruin one of the most important nights of my life. We found a beautiful dress, even more stunning than the one that had been destroyed. My dad made sure I felt like the princess I was meant to be for prom. And as I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew that no one, not even a spiteful stepmother, could take away my happiness.