Second Chances Don’t Always Look Like Forgiveness
The transplant went well.
Luna’s color returned slowly, like a sunrise after a long night.
Her laugh came back.
And when it did, it filled every room like it had always been waiting there.
That night, I sat outside her hospital door and cried harder than I ever had in my life.
Not just because I almost lost her.
Because I realized I’d already lost her once… without ever knowing she was alive.
Two years passed.
She’s three now—fearless, bright, and completely obsessed with fire trucks.
I switched to a desk job at the station.
