I remembered Lily asking, three weeks into chemotherapy, whether she would still be alive to finish the school year.
I had promised her yes, even though nobody in a white coat would promise me the same.
Now here we were.
« I picked silver on purpose, » she said, straightening the scarf again. « You know why? »
« Tell me. »
« I picked silver on purpose, »
« Because it’s the color of armor. I figured if I have to cover my head, I might as well cover it like a warrior. »
Something ached and glowed at the same time inside my chest.
« Lily. That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. »
« Do you think the other kids will stare? »
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