A few days had passed since Isabella took the compatibility test. Long, heavy days, and at the same time, full of a silent hope that lingered in every corner of the house.
In the last week, chemotherapy had begun to leave its marks on my daughter's body. Giulia's hair started to fall out in thin strands on her pillow and in the bath, and it was she herself who asked to have it all shaved off. She said she wanted to be "like the warriors who face real dragons."
Isabella cried in the bathroom, hidden, after cutting the first strands, but she didn't let it show in front of Giulia. In front of her, she smiled, praised her courage, and covered her with kisses. The next morning, she showed up with a gift wrapped in pink paper: a box with Disney princess wigs.
Giulia screamed with joy when she
