My 17-Year-Old Son Shaved His Head for His Sick Girlfriend – The Next Day, Her Mother Said, ‘You Need to Come to the Hospital and See What Your Son Did’

“Hey, you,” I said warmly. “Did he get there yet? I should’ve warned you. I almost dropped a basket of clothes when I saw him. How is Lily…?”

“Rachel,” Diane cut me off quickly, her voice flat and tight. Not like the Diane I knew. My heart beat faster.

“Di? Is everything okay? Is Lily?”

“Lily’s fine.” She paused, and I heard her breath shake. “Rachel, you need to come down here to the hospital and see for yourself what your son did. I don’t know how to feel about it. Please just come.”

The air left the living room. I gripped the edge of the counter.

“I should’ve warned you.”

“Done something how? Diane, talk to me,” I begged, feeling panicked.

“Just come. Please. I can’t do this on the phone.”

The line went dead.

I stood there with the phone still pressed to my ear, my mind already racing through every version of what could have gone wrong in a hospital room. I grabbed my car keys without my coat.

The whole drive over, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking against the steering wheel.

“I can’t do this on the phone.”

***

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.

“Come with me.”

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