Before I could form a response, the doorbell rang. Kayla’s boyfriend, Steven, let himself in, his cheerful voice calling about corsage colors as he bounded up the stairs. He stopped dead in the doorway, his jaw slackening as he took in Kayla’s bald head.

“What the hell happened to your hair?” he blurted out, then quickly pasted on an expression of concern. “Baby, don’t cry. We can fix this. We’ll get you a wig. You’ll still be the prettiest girl there.”