I barely knew Lily’s parents. They were private, distant people, and I’d always had the quiet feeling they didn’t much like Ethan.
When I walked into the office, Ethan was sitting there, pale. Lily’s father sat beside him.
“So,” I said, forcing a smile. “Is this about the wig?”
He looked at me a long moment, then at Ethan. “You really didn’t tell her?”
My smile faded. “Tell me what?”
“You have no idea what your son has done, do you?” Then, to Ethan: “Tell her the truth yourself, right now, or I’ll have to.”
Ethan couldn’t look at me.
So Lily’s father reached into his coat, set a hospital letter on the desk, and slid it across to me.
And I read the thing my son had been hiding for two months.
Chapter 2: What the Letter Said
The letter was from the hospital’s transplant program.
I didn’t understand it at first. Words I’d never had to learn swam on the page — donor registry, preliminary typing, confirmatory match. And then one line resolved out of the rest and the floor seemed to tilt.
