Page 137 of You Only Need One


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There’s a pain in my stomach. A small, sharp pinch. Like a warning.

I nod for him to continue.

“We got a call from Fred this morning. He hasn’t been feeling well for over a week. He was worried he might have the flu and that it would push back the exchange, so he went in for another checkup.”

Two sharp pinches.

“He doesn’t have the flu. He has Lyme disease. Got it from a tick bite while out hiking. There’s antibiotics to treat it, but …”

Three pinches. Four. Five. Six. More. More. More.

“Fred won’t be able to donate to Marcus.”

The pain grows until I have to wrap my arms around my torso to keep it from splitting me open.

“Marcus won’t be getting a kidney.” It’s not a question, just a statement to make sure my brain registers the horror I’m living in.

Still, Ben answers, “No.” His hands cup my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

My mouth won’t work, but even if it did, I don’t have any words. Right now, there’s just a solid wall of pain pressing on my chest.

I shut my eyes. Shut out the world. The cruel world that keeps giving me hope and taking it away.

A phrase does climb over the wall to plaster itself across my eyelids, pulsing and beating like a drum.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

But the words are useless. I could beg on my knees, but this would still be happening. Again.

“Holly. Please.”

A voice pulls my eyes open, and I find Ben watching me with concern. But he wasn’t the one who spoke. I look to Mrs. Gerhard. She fiddles with something in her hands.

“We know how hard this must be to hear. God, do we know.” She takes a deep breath that catches like a hiccup. “But please … please don’t take away Ben’s chance. You care about him, don’t you?”

“Mom!” Ben’s voice is sharp, whipping my head back toward him. He’s glaring at his mother again, but his whole face softens as he turns back to me. “I understand, Holly. You don’t need to feel bad about backing out. I know Marcus doesn’t have many options.”

Their words reach me on a delay. I see their mouths moving, but I need a moment to comprehend. A buzzing in my brain, a demand to sink into misery, does its best to drown out their voices. It takes effort to focus, but I try.

“You can. But, Holly,” his mom is speaking again, “we can help you in other ways. We know you don’t have much money. But you don’t ever have to worry about that again.” Mr. Gerhard steps forward to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulders, nodding as he stares at me. “Whatever you need, however much you want, we’ll give it to you. Just please, save our son.”

She slides a piece of paper across the island to me, and purely on reflex, I pick it up.

“Stop it. Both of you. This isn’t what I want. You can’t put this kind of pressure on her,” Ben growls.

Why is he so angry? Should I be angry?

Right now, I’m just lost in the hurt. My skin is flayed open, all my nerves exposed and in agony. My heart breaks for my brother. The Gerhards must hear it cracking. The pain is too powerful to be inaudible.

“We have to! I don’t ever want to get another phone call from Sammy, saying you’re in the hospital! You could’ve died!”

“That’s not the point!”

Hospital? Was Ben in the hospital?

With each beat of my fractured heart, the anguish inside me pulses. My brain wants to escape my head, growing and pushing at the confines of my skull.

I ache.

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