Chapter 3: The Girl Who Laughed Too Loud
Lily had always been the loud one.
Even as a little girl, she filled every room with noise—laughter, questions, stories. After her mother died when Lily was seven, that brightness became my anchor. I raised her alone, and she made it easy. She was curious about everything. She wanted to be a journalist one day. She believed the truth mattered.
When she left for college, I worried. Not because I thought she couldn’t handle it, but because the world can be cruel to girls who ask too many questions.
She called me every Sunday without fail.
Last Sunday, she had been excited about a story she was working on for the campus newspaper.
“Something big might be happening with the athletic department, Dad,” she’d said. “I can’t say much yet, but I think I’m onto something.”
I had laughed and told her to be careful.
She had laughed back.
“I’m always careful.”
Now she lay in a hospital bed with her jaw wired shut.
I sat beside her and held her hand.
“Whatever you were working on,” I whispered, “I’m going to finish it.”
May you like
Her fingers squeezed mine once.
That was enough.
