One evening, Maya found him in the hospital courtyard, hunched over a bench. He gave her a weak smile. “Bad day,” he said. “Labs came back rough.” She sat beside him, trying not to let fear show. “What does that mean?”
He hesitated, then said, “They’re bumping me up on the transplant list.” She stayed quiet for a long time. “Is that… good?” “It’s necessary,” he said. “But it’s a long list.” Maya didn’t sleep well that night. She ran through old blood test reports in her mind, trying to remember her type.
O positive. Universal donor for kidneys, she thought. The idea formed quietly, without announcement. She didn’t tell him right away. But it settled like a seed—heavy, still, and growing.
Maya called the transplant coordinator from her car after morning practice. Her voice barely wavered as she gave her name and explained the situation. “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “I just want to know if I could be a match.” The nurse asked a few questions, then scheduled the labs.