My Daughter Knit My Wedding Dress – Just Hours Before the Ceremony, I Found It Ruined and Knew Exactly Who Did It

I knelt beside her and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I didn’t rush her. I didn’t ask any questions.

I just held her, the way I used to when she was smaller and nightmares still sent her padding down the hallway in the middle of the night.

“I checked it again, Mom,” Lily whispered. “Last night, before bed. It was still perfect then.

I swear!”

My stomach dropped. I didn’t need her to explain.

My daughter was talking about my wedding dress.

Lily had knitted my wedding dress — months of tiny, faithful stitches, grief turned into something soft and strong. I’d hung it in the upstairs closet like it was made of glass.

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