I unfolded the final section of Caleb’s letter.
Mom, there’s one thing I never told you.
The day I collapsed was not the first time something happened to me.
My breathing stopped.
I had been having symptoms for months. I hid them because I was scared. But there was another reason.
I had already learned Emily and I shared an extremely rare compatibility profile.
I knew there was almost no chance the transplant system would allow me to choose her, and I never asked anyone to break the rules.
But I also knew that if the worst happened and she was still waiting, there was a possibility.
I couldn’t finish.
Laura reached for my hand.
But beneath that paragraph was a final line.
One that made my blood run cold.
And Mom, if they told you my disease was random, ask Dr. Whitmore to show you the original blood work from March.
