***
The automatic doors of the hospital slid open, and I walked in too fast, my car keys still clenched in my fist.
Diane was already waiting in the corridor, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, when I arrived. She didn’t smile or even say hello.
“Rachel. Come with me.”
I followed her down the hallway, past the nurses’ station, past a cart of folded blankets.
My mouth was dry.
“Diane, please, just tell me. Is Lily okay? Did Aaron say something? What happened?”
“He crossed a line,” she said, not slowing down.
“A line? Diane, my son shaved his head for your daughter. He did it out of love.”
My friend stopped so suddenly that I almost walked into her. Her eyes were red, but her jaw was set.
“It isn’t just the shaving thing, Rachel. It’s what he did next.”
“Aaron has barely slept in months. He brings her soup. He sits in waiting rooms doing his homework on his lap.”
