“Mom?” she whispered. “Maybe… maybe we should go home?”

That nearly broke me. I took her hand, gripping it until my knuckles ached. “Let’s just rest for a minute, my love,” I said.

Just then, a group of moms swept past, their perfume lingering in the air. At the front was Cassidy, the PTA queen—perfect as always.

She noticed us and paused, her expression soft with something that looked like pity.

“Poor thing,” she said, just loud enough for others to hear. “Events for complete families are always hard on children from… well, you know. Incomplete families.”

I stiffened, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“What did you say?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Cassidy smiled thinly. “I’m just saying, Jill, maybe some events aren’t meant for everyone. This is a father-daughter dance. If you don’t have a father—”

“My daughter has a father,” I cut in. “He gave his life defending this country.”

Cassidy blinked, caught off guard. The other moms suddenly became very interested in their bracelets and phones.

The music shifted again—one of Keith’s favorite oldies, the one he and Katie used to dance to in the living room. Katie pressed closer to me, burying her face in my sleeve.

“I wish he was here, Mom.”

“I know, sweetheart. I wish that every day,” I murmured, smoothing her hair. “But you’re doing so well. He’d be so proud of you.”

She looked up, eyes glistening. “Do you think he’d still want me to dance?”

“I think he’d want you to dance more than ever. He’d say, ‘Show them how it’s done, Ladybug.'” I forced a smile as my heart twisted.

Katie pressed her lips together, holding back tears. “But I feel like everyone’s staring at us.”

The silence around us felt heavy—too many people pretending not to notice.

Then suddenly, the gym doors slammed open with a bang that made Katie jump.

“What’s happening?” she whispered, clutching my arm.