At the hospital in Port Averly, I got my heart transplant. From the moment they wheeled me into the OR until it was over, it took 8 hours, and Julian waited right outside the entire time without leaving once. The surgery went perfectly.
On the third day after surgery, I felt a real heartbeat for the first time. It wasn't the hum of a machine or the pulse of an electric current. It was warm and strong, the beat of an actual heart.
Finally, I was free of that heavy machine and free of the fear of plugging in every single day. I didn't have to dread losing power in the middle of the night or live my life by a battery percentage anymore. I'd been given my life back.
One morning, as sunlight streamed into my room, I sat in bed looking out at the water of Averly Bay, and the tears came withou
