“But I have to tell you something. Something I never told you before.”
Annalee held her breath. She had no idea what was coming.
Tommy put his hands on her face again. “For me, it was never your hair, Annalee.” He looked all the way to her soul. “It was your eyes.” He kissed her forehead. “It was always your eyes.”
And suddenly—for the first time since the haircutting began—Annalee felt the sadness lift. Yes, she was losing her hair. The image she’d come to expect every morning in the mirror would be different now. Maybe forever.
But nothing could touch the thing Tommy loved most about her. The eyes that showed her family and friends and all the world her love and joy, her peace and patience. Her kindness, gentleness, thoughtfulness and faithfulness. Cancer could make her sick and tired and broken. It could even leave her bald.
But it couldn’t touch her eyes—the windows to her soul.
As the hour played out, as Aunt Lily shaved Annalee’s head and as her hair was taken to a waiting trash bag… as the music stopped and the praying ended and people left the house, Annalee knew two things with all her heart. She was going to fight this cancer.
And she had never loved Tommy Baxter more.
The one who—from the beginning—had looked right past her hair and straight to her heart.
From the very first time their eyes met.
15
For Reagan, life outside Northside High felt like it was crumbling a little more each day. But here inside the brick walls of her favorite campus, Reagan felt peace. Especially this afternoon.
The last hour of school today would be the student clothing drive—the one Annalee had set up at the start of the school year. The items would be donated to an Indianapolis safe house for sex-trafficking victims. Donna Miller was going to be here, too—since Annalee couldn’t.
It was the middle of October and Annalee was in the hospital again. But she was supposed to come home soon. Her doctor had said this time she would need a few weeks to recoup from the chemo and steroids. Which was why in addition to clothing, today the students at Northside were each bringing letters or cards for Annalee. Something to encourage her.
The clothing drive figured to be the one bright light today, at least for Reagan.
Things at home were still strained, with Tommy doing IMPD ride-alongs every Saturday afternoon. So great was the tension, that when school got out today Reagan was going to meet Luke for coffee. So they could talk through what they hadn’t been able to work out at home regarding the situation.
Until then, Reagan was more than happy to be here at Northside, setting up for the event. None of the Millers knew about the cards and letters. Reagan could hardly wait to see Donna’s reaction. Yes, the Northside community was loving the Miller family through Annalee’s cancer. Reagan had passed a sign-up sheet around for students and their parents to bring the Millers meals throughout the week.
On top of that, Reagan had helped the school set up a GoFundMe account and already families at Northside had donated twenty thousand dollars toward Annalee’s medical expenses.
Reagan was setting up the last of six tables when Donna walked up and set her purse against the wall. “I’m ready.” She smiled, but her eyes still looked weary. “Annalee’s so glad I’m here.”
An ache cut through Reagan as she hugged her friend. Tommy’s sweet girlfriend would’ve done anything to be here for the clothing drive she had arranged. Her absence was further proof of how sick she was. Reagan sat down in one of the folding chairs behind the long table. “How’s she feeling?”
“She’s still vomiting.” Donna took the seat beside her. “Her nausea is crippling. She can barely open her eyes some days. And she’s lost more weight. Every day she looks a little thinner. But for the past hour she’s been holding down liquids.” Donna folded her hands on the table. “We’re praying for victories along the way. That is for sure one of them.”
The bell rang and Reagan smiled to herself. Donna was about to experience another victory. Before a minute passed, the doors pushed open and a stream of students entered the auditorium. Each of them carried a bag of clothes and a few dragged overfull black bags behind them.
This message from the Northside students was clear—if Annalee wanted used clothing to support victims of sex trafficking, then that’s what she would get. The students would do