My daughter left for prom in a green dress with a boy I’d known since he was seven. Hours later, she came home barefoot, soaked, and wearing another boy’s hoodie. Then her phone lit up. What had happened after I went to sleep?
She left this house at 6 p.m. in a green dress.
She went with Tyler, the Brennans’ oldest, two doors down. I’d known that boy since he was seven.
At 8:40 p.m. they sent us a photo of the two of them at the table, laughing at something off to the side.
At 10:15 p.m. Tyler texted me himself.
“Having a great time Mrs. Ann, we’ll head back around 12:30 a.m.”
I fell asleep on the couch with the porch light on.
I heard a car door at 1:04 a.m.
Not his car. I didn’t know the engine.
I was already sitting up when the kitchen door opened. Maddie came in barefoot, holding her heels in one hand.
The hoodie was gray and enormous, sleeves past her fingers.
Not Tyler’s. He’d worn a black tux. I had the picture.
Her hair was soaked at the ends.
“Where’s your dress?”
“In the car.”
“Whose car? Maddie, whose car was that?”
