She stood by her little wooden desk, staring blankly at her unopened history book.

“Sadie, you’ve been talking about senior prom all year,” I said.

“I don’t want to go,” Sadie said.

“I don’t want a dress, and I don’t want to go shopping in Sioux Falls.”

She reached into the bottom of her closet, took out her worn silver heels and walked over to the plastic trash can beside her bed.

She dropped the old silver shoes in with a sharp plastic thud.

“Sadie, take those back out,” I said.