My husband became an organ donor as his final wish — after he d*ed, his doctor stopped me and said, “There’s something he made me promise to give you only after he was gone.”

An ordinary life.

A real person.

I sat in that small waiting room for another half hour, just looking at what little I could see of her profile.

One public photo: Diane at what looked like a birthday party, laughing at something off-camera.

She had dark hair and an open, unguarded smile.

In the background, slightly out of focus, a small boy in a paper crown.

I closed the app and put my phone away.

Outside, the afternoon had turned grey.

I drove home slowly, both hands on the wheel, and when I got inside I sat at the kitchen table without taking off my coat.

My mother-in-law called at six.

I let it ring.

She called again at six-fifteen.

I picked up.

“I heard you left the hospital,” she said.