Which meant I'd missed something.
Inside was the most beautiful prom dress I had ever seen.
It had a long skirt and was made of a blue fabric that shimmered subtly when the light caught it, almost like water.
"Oh, Gwen," I whispered.
She'd been talking about prom for months. Half our dinners had turned into planning sessions.
She'd scroll through dresses on her phone and hold the screen up for me to squint at while she narrated each one like a fashion correspondent.
She'd been talking about prom for months.
"Grandma, it's the one night everyone remembers," she told me once. "Even if the rest of high school is terrible."
I remembered pausing at that.
"What do you mean, terrible?"
She just shrugged and went back to scrolling. "You know. School stuff."
I let it go. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did.
