The question broke something inside me. I wanted to tell her the truth—that I didn’t know. Instead, I forced a smile and said, “You’re going to prom one way or another.” Carol watched me for a long moment, then nodded and reached for my hand. Specialoccasion attire
Two days later, another round of chemotherapy made her even worse. I drove her back to the hospital while she rested silently against the window. She was admitted for one night, then another, then indefinitely. One evening, she whispered, “Mom, what if I don’t make it?” I smoothed her head and fought back tears. “You’re going to make it to plenty of proms, sweetheart. This is just a delay.” She turned toward the wall and said nothing.
The following evening, I was rinsing out her water cup when Nurse Jenny appeared at the door.
“Linda, can you step into the hallway for a minute?” My stomach dropped, but when I stepped outside, I froze. The hallway was full of teenagers. Boys in rented suits, girls in dresses, pizza boxes, balloons, drinks, and a small speaker hanging from Daryl’s wrist.
Megan, one of Carol’s classmates, stepped forward. “Mrs. Linda, we talked to Dr. Patel. She said it was okay. We wanted to bring prom to Carol.” I covered my mouth, unable to speak. “You did all this?” Daryl nodded. “We’ve been planning it for weeks.” Specialoccasion attire
They walked into Carol’s room, and when she saw them in their prom clothes, she let out a sound I will never forget—half laugh, half sob. “You guys…” Megan helped her pull a sparkly top over her hospital gown. Someone turned on the music, and for the first time in months, my daughter truly laughed. The kids ate cold pizza, danced, teased each other, and for a little while, Carol was not a patient. She was just a girl at prom.
I stepped into the hallway and cried quietly, not from sadness, but from gratitude. Then Daryl came out. His tie was loose, but his face was serious. “Mrs. Linda,” he said, “can we talk?” I tried to hug him and thank him, but he stepped back gently. “Ma’am, do you know why we’re really here?”
I blinked. “To give Carol her prom?” Specialoccasion attire
He pulled a thick white envelope from his jacket. “No, ma’am. Carol gave this to me last week. She told me to give it to you tonight.” My hands shook as I opened it. Inside were folded pages, some printed, some in Carol’s handwriting. One letter was for Daryl, one for Megan, and one for me.
I read mine first. The words made the hallway tilt beneath me. Carol wrote that her last scans had not shown what she told me. She had overheard Dr. Patel discussing the results and learned the treatment was not working the way we had hoped. She had begged the doctor for a little time before telling me because she couldn’t bear to watch me break.
