They rushed against the clock, racing grief itself. In just two days, neighbors, strangers, and the Make-A-Wish Foundation built a wedding out of borrowed flowers, donated cake, and raw love. Emma arrived in her wheelchair, wrapped in purple, her father guiding her down the aisle as if time might listen and slow. DJ waited, small shoulders squared with a courage far beyond his years, clutching a ring that suddenly felt impossibly heavy.
They weren’t husband and wife in any legal sense, only in the way that matters to children: completely, unquestioningly. Their vows were simple promises to be best friends forever. For a few sacred hours, hospital rooms and test results disappeared, replaced by music, laughter, and the sound of a little girl’s wish coming true. Days later, when Emma slipped away, that wedding became the memory everyone clung to—a final, shining proof that love can be fierce, pure, and unimaginably brave, even in a child’s last chapter.
