CARMEL Inside a bright clinic at Riley Hospital for Children at IU Health North, Teagan Rileys morning began like any routine checkup: a quick temperature, a height and weight, a bloodpressure cuff that puffed up and let go. But this was no ordinary appointment. The waiting room thrummed with family chatter, banners and streamers hugged the walls, and the air shimmered with tears the joyful kind. Hope, in this case, was audible as much as visible.

5yearold Teagan walked with her family to the bell used at Riley to mark the end of cancer therapy. Before she rang the bell, her 8yearold sister, Skylar, read aloud: ring this bell, three time well. It's toll to clearly say: my treatment's done, this course is run, and I am on my way. Skylars voice broke on the last line; the room held its brea

See Full Page