Mom chooses that moment to walk into the room. “Sophia! Oh good. I wouldn’t let Arden change until you got home. We need a family picture.”
I push all thoughts of the tragedy aside. Today is Arden’s day, and she deserves far better than what’s happened. “Great idea,” I say, hooking my arm around Arden’s shoulders. “No more talk about the incident that shall not be named. For the rest of the night, it’s just us and our pride over this amazing girl.”
“Hear! Hear!” Grandma yells from the living room.
I peek at her around the corner. She’s knitting something that looks like a sweater for a hamster. I don’t ask.
I use a little illusion to spruce my hair and makeup and then follow my parents to a spot in front of the fireplace where Dad has the camera set up on a tripod to take our picture. We time a photograph, all of us smiling as the flash goes off again and again. Afterward, we huddle over the screen, laughing about who has their eyes closed or is making a face.
Mom claps her hands together. “Dinner will be a few more minutes. Let’s do gifts first.”
“Yes!” I squeal, excited to give Arden the gift I am sure will be her favorite.
I sprint upstairs and retrieve the giant box I’ve had wrapped for her from my desk and bound back down the stairs to present it to her.
“For the girl whose every dream I pray comes true.”
She grins and pecks me on the cheek. Carrying the huge box to the dining room, she rests it on the table before pulling off the bow and lifting off the top. “Oh, Mom!” She draws the cobalt dress from the box and holds it against herself. It’s strapless with a formfitting waist and a full, floor-length skirt embroidered with crystals that deepen the color depending on the light. It sparkles under the glow from the dining room chandelier.
“When you first came here, you asked about my dress. I realized you’ve never had a fairy dress of your own. And since you’re half-pixie, that had to be rectified. No matter where you go in life, you should always have a princess dress in your closet. And there’s a tiara, necklace, and shoes in there to add to the ensemble.”
Only the two of us know how accurate my description of her as a princess is, or how when I mention where she might go in life, it includes fairy society. But Arden knows. And whether she wears this dress here in Dragonfly or in the human world at some future event I can only dream of, she’ll always know what it means. Deep down, she’s lucky. She’s fae. She’s the only person like her on the planet. And she deserves this dress to prove it.
“Oh, Mom, I love it.” As she hugs me, I feel wetness where her face touches mine. She pulls back, and I wipe away her tears.
I reach into the box, grab the tiara, and replace the laurel leaves on her head with it.
“Beautiful,” my mom says.
We all bask in the glow of my perfect gift for a moment, and then Mom pulls a box the size of a coffee mug from the china cabinet behind her and places it in front of the dress box. It’s all wrapped in green paper with silver cords to match her school colors. I have no idea what it could be. “The rest of us went in together on this. Happy graduation.”
Arden repacks the dress in the box but leaves the tiara on her head. “Thank you all,” she says sweetly, then rounds the table to hug Mom, Dad, and Grandma before she even opens their gift. My heart swells with pride. She’s a good kid. I’ve done my job.
Returning to her seat, she unwraps the box. Inside is a metal toy car—a blue Kia Soul. She laughs. “It’s adorable!”
I look between the car and my mom, who is wearing a devious grin. “There’s more. Look in the wrappings. It’s in there.”
Arden digs her hand into the tissue paper and pulls out a key.
“You didn’t,” I mutter.
“We did!” Mom’s eyes twinkle impishly .
Grandma squeals.
“What is this?” Arden shakes her head, her eyes expanding to the size of saucers. “Did you… Did you buy me a car?”
“We did,” my dad says proudly. “It’s used and you’ll have to wait until after dinner to see it because it’s parked in the guest lot, but it looks just like that one.” He points at the toy.
I’m speechless. I glare at Grandma, who flutters her eyelashes at me. “We just hope you like it,” she says. “I knitted you a steering wheel cover too, but it wouldn’t fit in the box. I’ll give it to you later.”
“I don’t even have a car!” I toss up my hands.
Mom shrugs. “So get a car, Sophia. You’re making enough now.”
True. I should get my own car, but that’s not the issue here. I focus the full weight of my stare on my three elders sitting across the table. “Oh. My. Gods. You did this so that you’d win at graduation gifts!” I point at each of them. “You intentionally one-upped me with the car.”
“Don’t be silly, Sophia. You can’twinat gifts,” my mom says, but Grandma is nodding her head, mouthingwe wonthrough a wicked smile.
