“October 12th: The doctor told me today that my heart is still healthy, even though my nervous system is failing. I told Mom I want to be an organ donor. I don’t know who will get my heart. The UNOS transplant coordinator said the matching list is completely anonymous and managed by the regional network. I hope whoever gets it lives a long, happy life.”
I dropped the journal onto the floor, my blood running ice-cold.
Anonymous.
The organ donation network was strictly anonymous. Donors and recipients were never allowed to know each other’s identities prior to a transplant, nor could a donor specify a recipient unless they were direct family members.
Furthermore, Caleb had written that he had no idea who would receive his heart.
So why did the letter claim he had met Maya in the hallway? Why did the letter say he specifically requested his heart go to her?
I pulled the letter out of my purse and examined the handwriting again under a bright desk lamp.
The handwriting looked almost identical to Caleb’s, but as I compared it line-by-line with his journal, I noticed tiny discrepancies. The slant of the ‘t’s. The loop on the ‘y’s.
It was a forgery. A near-perfect forgery, but a forgery nonetheless.
My head spun. Who wrote this letter? Why would Maya’s mother hand me a fake letter at my son’s funeral? What kind of sick game were they playing?
Determined to find the truth, I drove straight to the hospital’s administrative offices the next morning. I demanded a private meeting with Dr. Harrison, the head of the neurology and transplant division who had overseen Caleb’s case.
Dr. Harrison sat across from me in his office, his face solemn as I laid the forged letter and Caleb’s real journal on his desk.
“Dr. Harrison,” I said, my voice trembling with rage and heartbreak. “My son didn’t write this letter. He didn’t know Maya. He didn’t pick her to get his heart. Who is she, and how did her mother get my son’s information?”
Dr. Harrison looked at the letter, let out a long, heavy sigh, and closed his eyes.
“Mrs. Vance…” Dr. Harrison said quietly. “I was hoping you would never have to find out about this. But you deserve the truth.”
“What truth?!” I demanded, tears spilling down my cheeks.
