High school was never easy for me. My name is Clara, and I was the janitor’s daughter. My father, Mr. Grayson, worked nights cleaning the very school I attended, and the other students never let me forget it. My clothes were plain, my backpack was worn, and my lunch was simple. The rich kids—especially Victoria Lorne—mocked me constantly, calling me “Janitor’s Girl” and laughing as if I didn’t belong.
Prom season brought out the worst of it. While they bragged about designer dresses and limos, I felt invisible. But one night at dinner, my dad said something that stuck with me: “Don’t let them tell you who you are. If you go, make it yours.”
That’s when everything changed. I reached out to Mrs. Elwood, a retired fashion designer in the neighborhood. She helped me create a…