My Stepmom Destroyed the Skirt I Made from My Late Dad’s Ties—Karma Knocked on Our Door That Same Night

When Dad died, I lost my anchor. After Mom passed years earlier, it had been just us—until he married Carla, cold and sharp as glass.

Two weeks after his funeral, she called his things “junk” and threw them out. I saved his ties and sewed them into a prom skirt so he could “walk” with me one last time.

Carla found it and shredded it to pieces. I was crushed—but my best friend helped me stitch it back together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.

That night, I danced under the lights, feeling Dad with me. When I came home, police cars surrounded the house. Carla was in handcuffs—for insurance fraud in Dad’s name.

As they took her away, I whispered, “Guess karma sews fast.”