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?”
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.
