That night Oliver floated in and out of consciousness. No-one was allowed in to see him, so the waiting room was full of anxious friends and family members.
After midnight, the nurses asked for all the parents to take their children home to rest, so Lilly, Jackson, Miley and some of Oliver's cousins all had to leave.
When they got home, Miley didn't go to bed. She stayed in her room, looking at photos, remembering all the times spent with Oliver.
She remembered the time he was in love with Hannah Montana.
She remembered how he fainted when she revealed her secret.
She remembered how he was there for her when she got stage fright, even though she bailed on him.
She remembered all the long hot days when they had fun at the beach.
She remembered how he was the best friend she could ever wish for, how he always forgave her, how he was always there for her, how he trusted her, how he cared about her, and how she cared about him. You never realise how much you love someone until they are taken away from you. Miley knew all too well that this was true.
Tears ran down her face as she looked at photos. Oliver's smiley grin was in every picture. He loved life. It just wouldn't be right if he died. He had so much more life to live.
Miley knew it was uncertain whether Oliver would live or die. She knew the doctors would do everything they could, and she knew that God would do what's best for Oliver, but she couldn't help feeling so scared. Was Oliver going to pull through? Could he make it? Would she ever get the chance to tell him how much he meant to her?