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”

leaned over to fluff her pillow, Carol stirred and quickly slid the journal beneath her blanket.

“Sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to startle you,” I quickly apologized.

“It’s fine, Mom.” She gave me her tired smile. “Just girl stuff.”

I nodded as though I understood. Teenagers needed privacy, even sick ones. Maybe especially sick ones.

A moment later, Carol’s continue reading …