"I have been mistreated."
I felt frozen, the moment too big to grasp. I looked down at my dress, Dad's jacket, every stitch mine. I heard his words again: "Wear it like you mean it."
The officer's eyes were kind. "Chelsea, there's a car outside. Sergeant Brooks wanted to escort you to prom, per your father's request. Go enjoy your night, we'll talk about the trust tomorrow. He didn't want you to miss this."
I grabbed my purse and followed the officer outside. Sergeant Brooks stood by Dad's old Chevy, freshly washed.
He gave me a sharp salute, then grinned. "Ready to go, little ma'am? I've never seen a dress like that before."
"Go enjoy your night, we'll talk about the trust tomorrow."
I nodded, tucking my skirt carefully as I got in. "I... I think so."
Brooks closed the door and slipped behind the wheel.
"You did good, kid. Martin would've burst his buttons if he saw you tonight."
I tried to laugh, but my voice wobbled. "He always said he'd teach me to drive in this car. Guess you're stuck with me instead."
