She did not see me at first.
When she finally turned and caught the outline of me sitting in the dark, her whole body locked into place.
I clicked on the lamp. The yellow light caught the smudged mascara under her eyes, the exhaustion carved into her face.
“It’s four in the morning, Ellie. You said midnight.
You never replied to my texts. Where have you been?”
“I was at prom. You know that.
My phone died.”
She was a terrible liar. She always had been.
“Come sit down,” I said.
“Talk to me.”
“Mom, I’m really tired. Can we please—”
I stood up. She flinched, and as she shifted back, her purse slid down her arm and fell.
The clasp popped open on impact.
Something white fell out of her purse.
At first I thought it was makeup, or maybe her phone.
But no, it was an envelope.
I stepped forward and leaned down to pick it up.
“Leave it!” Ellie lunged for the envelope just as my fingers closed on one edge. She pulled on it, and the envelope tore.
$100 and $50 bills spilled across the floor, along with a folded piece of paper.
I stared at the cash on the floor in shock for a moment, then Ellie started snatching it up and shoving it back into her purse.
I grabbed the folded piece of paper seconds before she reached it.
I unfolded it.
The handwriting was neat, almost formal, and the message it contained made my stomach drop.
Excellent performance! You were great.
I read it out loud, then I looked at my daughter, standing there in her rumpled prom dress and smudged mascara with a purse full of cash.
The most horrible scenarios filled my mind.
“Ellie, what is this?” I fought to keep my voice steady.
“This is definitely not nothing.” I held the note up between us. “Excellent performance.
What performance? Who gave this to you? And the money… what is the money for?”
“I can’t tell you.” Her lower lip quivered.
“Please, just leave it alone.”
“Leave it alone? You came home at four in the morning with an envelope of cash and a note that sounds like—”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. The thought of what it sounded like turned my mouth dry.
“It’s not what you think,” she whispered.
“Then tell me what it is.”
She shook her head.
Her whole body was shaking.
“Ellie, please.” I reached for her.
She stepped back, and her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head again, then she turned and ran upstairs.
I stared after her, thinking hard about how I could get the truth out of her.
Little did I know that the next day, something even more shocking would arrive at our front door.
I didn’t sleep after that.
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the note until the words blurred.
By seven, I climbed the stairs and knocked softly on Ellie’s door. No answer.
By mid-morning I was leaning against her doorframe like the wood might hold me up when the doorbell rang.
A delivery driver stood on the porch holding a bouquet of peonies and lilies so large that I could barely see his face behind it.
“These are for Ellie,” he said.
I took the bouquet and stared at the flowers. They must have cost a small fortune!
As the delivery driver turned away, I noticed a small card tucked into the petals.
I pulled it out before I could stop myself.
Hope your legs are sore from last night.
You deserved it.
“What the—” I muttered, anger and horror rising in my body.
Then I marched upstairs with the bouquet. I carried the bouquet upstairs and knocked on Ellie’s door, harder this time.
This time, I wasn’t going to walk away without answers.
“Ellie. Open this door.
Right now.”
A pause. Then the lock clicked.
She opened the door an inch, her eyes red and swollen.
“These came for you.” I held up the flowers first, then the card.
“‘Hope your legs are sore from last night. You deserved it.’ Who sent this, Ellie?”
Her face crumpled.
Then she took the flowers and threw them against the wall.
“Ellie, did someone… hurt you?” I asked.
“Mom, please.”
“No. No more please, Mom.
You came home at four in the morning with cash in your purse. These expensive flowers arrived this morning. The notes.
You’re obviously upset, baby, and I just want to help, but I can’t do that unless I know what’s going on.”
She opened the door wider. Her prom dress was crumpled on the floor behind her.
A long silence stretched between us.
“If you don’t tell me the truth,” I said quietly, “I’m calling the police today.
Do you understand me?”
Her eyes went huge. “Mom, no. Please.
You don’t understand.”
And finally, something behind her eyes gave way.
“His name is Daniel. He goes to my school.” She sat down on the edge of her bed. “A few months ago, he started talking to me after class.
He knew I was applying to some really competitive college programs.”
I frowned.
“He found out how much the application fees cost. The summer courses too.” She looked down at her hands. “One day he offered me money if I’d go to prom with him.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I know how it sounds. But you’ve been working so hard, Mom.
I didn’t want to ask you for more money. I thought I could handle one night.”
“Okay, so this boy paid you to go to prom with him, and you accepted so you could pay for extra courses and college applications.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That doesn’t explain what happened last night.
What did he do to you, Ellie?”
Her voice dropped. “He was fine at first. But then he started getting annoyed every time I talked to my friends.
Every time I wanted to do something that wasn’t his idea, he got irritated. He said he paid me to look pretty beside him, not to have a good time.”
A brief wave of relief washed over me, but then the anger returned.
“I told him his behavior was awful.” Her hands curled into fists on her knees. “That he should be ashamed of himself.
And he told me I was being dramatic. Then he drove off and left me there.”
“He left you there? At prom?”
She shook her head.
“We were headed to the afterparty.
My phone was dead. I didn’t know exactly where I was. I just started walking.” She pressed her lips together.
“Eventually, I found a gas station and the man behind the counter let me use the phone to call a taxi.”
