I thought nothing could hurt more than losing my best friend Rachel to cancer. It felt like a part of me died with her. But I was wrong—so, so wrong. One evening, my husband Daniel and I were home when the doorbell rang. It was Amanda, Rachel's sister. She looked pale, shaken, like she hadn't slept in days. In one hand, she held a little pink backpack. In the other, a large envelope. My heart dropped. "Is Lily okay?" I asked, thinking of Rachel's two-year-old daughter. "I came to talk about her,