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“Night, girls,” Dad says.
“Night,” we echo, heading upstairs to our rooms.
I close my door behind me and flop on my bed. Lifting my wrist to my eyes, I study the bracelet and smile.
Every time you look at it, think of something happy.
My mind immediately goes to green eyes and the smell of salty sea air and my chest most definitely feels lighter than it was before.
I dance around the room.nbsp;
My movements are free and fluid.
The smile never leaves my face.
Riiiiiiing.
I spin. I twirl. I leap.
Riiiiiiiing.
I revel in the sounds of the pads of my ballet slippers touching the floor.
My soul feels ignited, vibrant, alive. I missed this. How could I have possibly stopped?
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.
I jolt awake, shaking off the groggy effects of my dream state.nbsp;
Riiiiiiing.
I grab my phone, and my heart stutters at the name flashing on the screen.
“H-Hello?” I answer, my voice shaking.
It’s the transplant hospital, and they’re calling in the middle of the night, which can mean only one of two things.
They have a kidney for me, if I take it after they give me all the information on it, or I’m basically an understudy for someone else if they turn it down or for whatever reason can’t make it to the hospital in time.
“Is this Willa Hansen?”
“Yes, it is.”
I sit up and rub my eyes with my free hand. Glancing at the clock on my desk, I see it’s three in the morning, yet I’m completely alert. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this awake in my life.
“Hi, Willa. This is nurse Amanda. We’ve had a kidney come in, and the network chose you as the best match.”
I can’t breathe.
It’s like my body has completely forgotten how to do it.
I force myself to breathe before I pass out.
“Are you still there?” she asks at my quiet.
“Y-Yes. I’m here. I’m … this is great.”
“The donor is male, seventeen-years-old, no history of drug or alcohol abuse. Medical history is clean. The kidney donor profile index is coming in around eleven percent.”
