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Madelaine sighed, feeling old “They’ve got a few ot to call Chris”

Madelaine went back into Francis’s roo Chris’s home number

He picked up on the first ring “Allenford here”

“Hi, Chris, it’s Madelaine”

There was a moment’s pause “Madelaine?”

“I’m down at Claremont Hospital in Portland”

“Oh, Jesus, Madelaine … what happened?”

Her voice treo on, but she couldn’t

“The donor is your priest? Angel’s brother?”

“Yes,” she whispered, trying desperately to keep her focus “Third EEG was flat No spontaneous activity off the ventilator, no response to pain tests He’s… he’s gone I’m the executor of his estate, Chris I want to authorize the… donation”

“Okay, Madelaine,” he said quietly “I’ll take it froet some sleep”

“No,” she saidhim I don’t want anyone else near him” She realized how stupid and childish she sounded—she knew the teaeons fro bits and pieces fro to that grain of hope—Francis’s beautiful blue eyes still seeing the world, his kidneys saving a child’s life, his bright loving heart still beating…

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember that this was a“I’ve got his durable power of attorney, Chris I’ll sign a waiver to donate Francis’s eyes, heart, kidney, pancreas, everything It’s what he’d want”

“NOPA and UNOS faxed ood, dopamine level is acceptable, hydration okay I kneas a perfect el” His voice fell to a whisper “Now I knohy”

“Yes” It was all she could say