# **Fiction: My Stepmother Copied the Prom Dress My Late Mother Made by Hand. She Thought She’d Embarrass Me—Until My Date Changed Everything**
When I was sixteen years old, my mother was dying.
Cancer had slowly stolen her strength, but it never touched her determination. Even on the days when she could barely get out of bed without help, she insisted on working on one final project.
It wasn’t something for herself.
It wasn’t something she would ever get to enjoy.
It was for me.
She had always dreamed of making my prom dress with her own hands. Long before she became sick, she would flip through fashion magazines, circle designs she liked, and joke that one day we’d spend weekends choosing fabrics together.
Life had other plans.
When she received her diagnosis, everything changed.
Hospital visits replaced shopping trips. Medications replaced vacations. Conversations became less about the future and more about making every remaining day count.
Still, she refused to give up on the dress.
Every afternoon, when she felt well enough, she sat beside the living room window with her sewing machine.
Sometimes she stitched for only ten minutes before exhaustion forced her to rest.
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