I glanced at him.
“Mary wanted this.”
“He told us not to build our hopes around it,” Mark added. “He said everything depended on the doctors.”
That sounded exactly like Jonathan.
Careful.
Practical.
Trying to carry something impossible without making it worse.
That sounded exactly like Jonathan.
“How close were they?” I asked.
Ellen smiled through her tears.
“Closer than either of us realized.”
She told me that once, a nurse had to separate them because they were laughing too loudly while other patients were sleeping.
That almost made me smile.
“How close were they?”
For the first time that day, someone was talking about Mary like she was still eighteen.
Not a donor.
Not a patient.
Just Mary.
“Mary talked about you all the time,” Ellen said.
someone was talking about Mary like she was still eighteen.
I looked at her.
“What did she say?”
“That you worried too much.”
