The day doctors told me my six-year-old daughter had less than a year to live, she made one simple wish—to see the ocean. I promised I’d find a way somehow. But after we finally got there, the hotel manager knocked on our door carrying a box that changed everything I thought I knew.
The sterile walls of the pediatric oncology ward felt colder than usual that afternoon.
I sat frozen in a hard plastic chair, staring at the pale floor tiles.
Down the hallway, Sophie was laughing softly at something her grandpa had said.
