Chapter 5 - Ellen and Mark, Except Now Their Names Were Different
When we walked back into the waiting room, the couple stood up immediately.
Nathaniel spoke quietly. "Marissa, this is Denise and Aaron. Priya's parents."
Denise stepped toward me. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
Her eyes filled. "For being happy today."
That stopped me cold.
She shook her head. "I don't know how else to say it. This is the worst day of your life, and we just got the call we've been praying for."
I noticed the coffee cup beside her, untouched. The way she kept twisting her hospital visitor wristband around and around her fingers. And suddenly I saw exactly what Claire must have seen.
Me. Sitting in waiting rooms. Studying doctors' faces. Hoping every single day for news that wouldn't destroy me.
"You're allowed to be happy," I told her.
Denise started crying harder. I nearly did too.
"Claire wanted this," I said.
She covered her mouth. "We didn't know at first. Priya mentioned Claire had asked some questions, but Nathaniel made it very clear there were no promises."
"He told us not to build our hopes around it," Aaron added. "Said everything depended on the doctors."
That sounded exactly like him. Careful. Practical. Carrying something impossible without letting it get any heavier than it already was.
"How close were they?" I asked.
Denise smiled through her tears. "Closer than either of us realized. Once, a nurse had to separate them because they were laughing too loud and other patients were trying to sleep."
For the first time all day, I almost smiled. Someone was talking about Claire like she was still just eighteen. Not a patient. Not a donor. Just Claire.
"She talked about you all the time," Denise said.
"What did she say?"
"That you worried too much."
I laughed despite myself. "That sounds about right."
"That you pretended not to cry."
My smile faded.
"And that whenever she got scared, she thought about going home with you."
I looked down at Claire's letter in my hands. She'd been scared. She just hadn't wanted me to know how much.
Then a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Ma'am? Sir?"
Denise and Aaron shot to their feet.
The nurse smiled. "Priya's out of surgery. She's stable. The surgeon will be in to talk with you shortly."
Denise made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Aaron wrapped his arms around her.
Then Denise looked at me. Pure relief crossed her face for a second, and then guilt replaced it just as fast.
I stood up. "Go."
She hesitated. "Marissa—"
"Go to your daughter."
She stepped toward me, clearly unsure whether she should touch me. So I hugged her first.
She held on tight. "Thank you," she whispered.
I pulled back. "Don't thank me. This wasn't my decision." I held up Claire's letter. "It was hers."
Denise cried harder. "Then I'll never forget her."
I believed her.
May you like
Aaron laid his hand over mine. "We won't let Priya forget her either."
The words hurt. But they also gave me something I hadn't expected. Claire would live on inside another family's stories — not only as a tragedy, but as the girl who'd given their daughter another chance at everything.
