I told myself I was being unfair. That good boys still existed.
“You look like a princess.”
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“Mom?” Rosie stopped turning and looked at me. “You’re making that face.”
“What face, honey?”
“The worried one.”
I set down the tea and stood up. “Come here. Let’s get you into that dress.”
She followed me down the hall, humming. I unzipped the pale blue gown we’d found on clearance and slid it carefully over her shoulders.
“You look like a princess,” I whispered.
“I do?”
“Yes.”
Then Steven walked toward her. The whole room seemed to slow down.
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She giggled and reached back for the zipper. My fingers shook a little as I pulled it up.
“Mom, you’re crying.”
“Tears of joy, sweetie.”
In the mirror, Rosie beamed at her reflection like the world had finally given her a turn. I pressed my lips to the back of her hair and said a silent prayer that this boy was exactly what he seemed.
