~ Isabella ~
I sat in the hard plastic chair at the New York Hospital. The small room smelled like strong lemon soap and rubbing alcohol. My younger brother, Leo, slept in the narrow bed next to me. His chest moved up and down in a slow, steady rhythm. The loud beep of the heart monitor filled the quiet room.
I watched his pale face. He looked so thin. The delay in his medical care during my time in prison really hurt him. His body was failing. I rubbed my tired eyes. I felt helpless.
A tired nurse walked in through the heavy wooden door. She wore green scrubs and held a thick blue folder in her hands. She smiled at me and held out the folder.
"Good news, Ms. Hart," the nurse said. "Here is the final paperwork for Leo's donor matching program. The charity foundation paid for everything
