Afterward, I signed the final donation papers with tears dripping onto the page.
I remembered that Mark wanted this.
I had to honor his final wish, even though doing so caused me unbearable pain.
As I was leaving the hospital, his doctor hurried after me, his face pale.
He was holding something behind his back so I couldn’t see it.
“Wait!
Please, wait!”
Something in his voice made me stop.
“Mark gave me this three weeks ago,” he said.
“He was very specific.
You weren’t supposed to see it while he was alive.”
What did Mark leave behind — and why did he need to keep it secret until the very end?
My name was written on it in Mark’s handwriting.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold it.
“He made me promise,” the doctor said quietly.
