I spent fifteen lonely days in the hospital after a serious car accident. Every night, a mysterious teenage girl sat beside me and whispered, “Be strong. You’ll smile again.” But when I asked about her, the nurses insisted no young visitor had ever entered my room.
Six weeks later, the same girl appeared at my doorstep. Her name was Tiffany, and her mother had caused the crash before dying from her injuries. Tiffany had secretly visited me because watching me survive gave her hope—and she had come to return my grandmother’s necklace, found near the wreckage.
We both cried as I hugged her. Over the years, Tiffany became like a daughter to me—the grieving stranger who brought light into my darkest days.
