Letty’s small act — one heartbroken girl with a pair of scissors and a memory of her father — had become a wave. And the wave kept moving.
But here is the part that mattered most to me, and to Letty.
Millie’s treatment, in the months that followed, was hard. I won’t pretend otherwise, and I won’t give you a false ending, because Millie’s story was Millie’s to live and it was not simple. What I can tell you is that she did not face it alone anymore. Letty became her closest friend. The two of them — the girl whose father died and the girl fighting to live — found in each other something the adults around them couldn’t quite provide: a peer who understood, without explanation, what it is to have illness at the center of your childhood.
They were inseparable. And whatever Millie faced, she faced it with a best friend who’d cut off her own hair to prove, on the worst day, that Millie was worth staying close to.
