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”

phone buzzed on the tray. The name Daryl lit up the screen before she turned it face down.

Daryl had been her best friend since middle school. He was the kind of boy who held doors open and remembered birthdays.

“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.”

Carol’s eyes drifted continue reading …