“In the ship’s medical isolation area. He became unwell.”
When they took me to him, Robert was lying in a hospital bed.
The moment he saw me, his eyes filled with tears.
“Margaret, forgive me.”
“Who is Elizabeth to you?” I asked.
He remained silent for a long time.
Then he said something even more terrifying than any confession of betrayal.
“She’s the reason you’re alive today.”I froze.
Robert explained that 53 years earlier, three days before our wedding, I had become seriously ill. My condition had deteriorated so badly that the doctors recommended emergency surgery.
I remembered the hospital, but not the days that followed.
It turned out that I had needed a living donor who was a rare match.
Elizabeth had volunteered.
She had agreed to donate a kidney to me on one condition: that I would never find out about it.
“Why?” I asked through my tears.
