“I know.”
“I don’t care what some laboratory report says.”
“Neither do I.”
That surprised him.
I leaned forward.
“Blood didn’t make you betray me, Thad. Choice did.”
He looked away.
“What are you going to do with the company?”
“Keep it.”
His eyes snapped back.
“I thought you’d sell.”
“No.”
“Why?”
I had spent days considering that question.
The Bromel name had been associated with death for more than a century.
Maybe it was time to make it associated with something else.
“We’re establishing a foundation.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“For living organ donors.”
His expression changed.
“Legal assistance. Lost-wage grants. Counseling. Independent donor advocacy. Privacy protection.”
“You think that makes you noble?”
“No.”
I stood.
“I think it makes me useful.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then asked the question I had once prayed he would ask.
“Did you ever love me?”
“Yes.”
He looked almost relieved.
I continued.
“That’s why what you did mattered.”
The relief disappeared.
I walked toward the door.
“Coraly.”
I stopped.
