My Daughter’s Friends Brought Prom to Her Hospital Room—Then Her Best Friend Handed Me an Envelope and Said, “This Is the Real Reason We’re Here”

and peeked into the hallway, but after Daryl gave a small nod, they quietly closed it again.

I shook uncontrollably.

Daryl stayed where he was.

“I’m her mother, Daryl. Her mother. I should’ve been the first person she told.”

“I know, ma’am. She wanted you to read it tonight. That was her plan, not mine.”

I wiped my face.

“Why tonight, though? Why did she continue reading …