“The transplant team called.

Chloe was offered a kidney, subject to the final checks.

She was taken to surgery a while ago.

We don’t have an update.”

I felt a complicated pang that was neither jealousy nor resentment.

I had loved a child whose final year had been measured in blood tests and medication schedules.

This mother was waiting for a surgeon to say whether her child might begin another kind of life.

“Are you happy?” I asked.