My Daughter’s Classmates Held Prom in Her Hospital Room Because She Couldn’t Attend Due to Her Illness – Then One of Them Handed Me an Envelope and Said, ‘Here’s the Real Reason We’re Here’

“He’s checking on you again?”

“He’s just being Daryl.”

I smiled and squeezed her foot through the blanket. “He’s a good one.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Carol’s eyes drifted to the window. Prom was four days away.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Do you think I’ll get to go?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, of course. The doctors were optimistic, anything to fill the silence with hope. I’d decided that was my job. Hope was the one thing I could still hand her.

“Do you think I’ll get to go?”

“You’re going to that prom, my baby. One way or another,” I lied, giving her and myself false hope.

Carol looked at me for a long moment, and something passed behind her eyes that I couldn’t quite read. Then she nodded and reached for my hand.

My heart broke every time I watched her grow weaker after each round of chemotherapy.

That night, after she fell asleep, I noticed she’d tucked another folded letter into the back of her journal.