Chapter 10
One year after the boutique, Mom walked into the same store again.
Her idea.
Not mine.
I thought she was joking.
She was not.
“I want to buy a dress,” she said.
“For what?”
“For Bianca’s graduation ceremony.”
Bianca had enrolled in a nonprofit administration program after everything collapsed.
She wanted to work with elder advocacy groups.
Mom pretended not to be proud.
She was terrible at it.
The boutique manager greeted us personally.
She had kept her job.
More than that, she had testified.
She hugged Mom gently.
“I’m glad you came back.”
Mom looked around the room.
The chandeliers.
The marble.
The rack of veils.
Her hand tightened on her cane.
I stepped closer.
“We can leave.”
“No,” she said.
She walked to the place where she had fallen.
For a moment, she stood there silently.
Then she tapped the marble once with her cane.
“I’m still here,” she whispered.
Bianca started crying.
I did too.
Mom pretended not to notice because she loved us.
She chose a lavender dress.
Simple.
Soft.
Beautiful.
When she came out of the fitting room, Bianca covered her mouth.
“Mom.”
Mom looked nervous.
“Too much?”
“No,” Bianca whispered. “You look like yourself.”
That was the best thing anyone could have said.
Later, the boutique manager handed us an envelope.
Inside was a photograph from security footage.
Not the fall.
A still image from that day after Victoria left.
Me kneeling beside Mom.
My hand holding hers.
The manager said, “I thought you might want proof of something better.”
Mom framed it.
She placed it in her living room.
May you like
Not as a reminder of pain.
As proof that when she fell, she was not abandoned.
