Mia
The surgeon stops a few feet in front of me.
For one terrifying second, he just looks at me, and in that pause my mind fills with every possible outcome. Bad news always comes with hesitation. With careful words. With pity in someone’s eyes.
I brace myself for it.
“Mia,” he says gently.
The sound of my name nearly brings me to my knees. I grip the back of the chair to steady myself, my legs trembling beneath me.
“How is she?” I finally manage. My voice barely sounds like my own.
“She made it through the surgery,” he says.
The words don’t register at first. They float there, suspended between us, unreal. I stare at him, waiting for the but that surely has to follow.
“She… she did?” I whisper.
He nods. “The transplant itself was successful. Both lungs were placed without compli
