The doctor looks surprised at my question. He looks at Landon who sat silently beside me. When it was clear that Landon was not going to talk, the doctor continues. “Two nights ago, you underwent a surgery for a liver transplant. I performed the surgery myself, and with a couple more days of monitoring, I think we can say it went very smoothly.”

“A transplant. How? I wasn’t eligible for the transplant list after I stopped treatment.”

Landon’s jaw clenches at my words. “Yes, but if someone offers to donate to you specifically, you don’t have to be put on a list.”

“Someone donated their liver to me? Who?”

The doctor grins. “Not their entire liver, only half, Mrs. Campbell. He was after all a living donor and has a bit of a need for it himself,” the doctor jokes.

With every word the doctor said, Landon becomes tenser and tenser.

“Who was my donor?” I direct my question to Landon. He clenches his jaw.

“Arnold Macintosh.” He grinds the words out.

My breath whooshes out of me. That does not make any sense. Arnold is cruel. He will never donate something so vital as an organ to me.

The doctor continues talking but I do not hear a word he said. My vitals are taken, and the doctor scribbles some things into his chart.

“Brooke? Brooke?” Landon’s voice finally pulls me out of my head.

“What?” I ask.

“Doctor Parker asked you a question.”

I turn my gaze back to the doctor. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

The doctor smiles. “I understand this is very surreal to you and your family. This must seem like a miracle. It was lucky you had a match. It is not always so easy, especially with distant family.

“But I am honored to say that if you continue to do as well as you are, you should be able to live a happy, full, normal life. You need to take prescription pills to help prevent organ rejection. The nurse will be in later to start you on your first round of meds and take another set of vitals. We will keep you for here for the next week, and you cannot fly for up to three months. This will all be explained in the pamphlet I will leave for you to read through later.”

The doctor sets the pamphlet on the table beside my bed, smiles, and then leaves the room. The room is silent for a minute or two before it really hit me. Everything the doctor just said. The transplant, Arnold, all of it means one thing.

I look over at Landon. “I’m not going to die?” I ask him.

Landon’s eyes swell with tears. He takes in a deep breath before he reaches out to cup my cheek. “No, Beagchaithnini sneachta. You’re not going to die.”