Mom had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair looked greasy pulled back into a messy bun. The lines around her eyes and mouth, from laughing and smiling, seemed more pronounced, like she’d been aging faster than normal.

I felt both guilty and sad seeing how rundown Mom was. She wasn’t taking care of herself, and I knew it was because she devoted all her time and energy to Connor, making sure he was healthy and as comfortable as possible, on top of being our family’s sole financial provider. And there I was, her daughter who certainly hadn’t made life any easier, kicking up a fuss about moving to Colorado and going to a hearing school.

I had to make it up to her somehow.

HEY, Nina signed to me when we were in the entryway of the house and I’d kicked off my shoes. YOU OK?

“I’m fine,” I said aloud, holding my bag tightly to my chest. “Just distracted.”

“Don’t worry,” Nina said, leading me toward the stairs. “Homecoming will be . . . you’ll love . . . promise.”

“Sure,” I said. “It’ll be great.”

Nina dragged me up to her bedroom on the second floor, and I could tell from the second I walked in that she’d been taking her time preparing for homecoming. She had all sorts of makeup carefully lined up across her dresser, a curling iron plugged in, a bunch of hair products out, and a handful of dresses laying in a neat row across her bed.

“I think we’re . . . same size,” Nina said as I set my bag on the floor. “I pulled out . . . dresses I think . . . might like.”

I went over to the bed to inspect the dresses. She’d set out four for me to look over, and they were all far more stylish than anything I’d ever worn. One was purple with a lot of lace and a little too low cut for my liking, two were black and simple but would probably fall a few too many inches above my knees since I was taller than Nina, and the last was yellow, more like a sundress than something you would wear to a school dance. It seemed like the perfect fit for me.

“This one,” I said, trailing my fingers along the fabric. “I like it.”

“I . . . you might,” Nina said with a sly grin. “Try it . . . !”

I took the dress, and Nina showed me to the bathroom down the hallway where I could change. I was careful to fold my jeans and T-shirt and set them on the counter as I tried on the dress. The bathroom was full of extravagant towels, soaps, and potpourri, and I didn’t want to mess anything up.