The officers froze when their tools hit something solid under the laminate floor. As they peeled the boards back, a hidden compartment appeared — filled with old belongings that clearly didn’t belong there. The little girl burst into tears, and her mother went pale.

“Why would this even be here?” she whispered.

The officers exchanged tense looks. Whatever they’d uncovered needed a deeper investigation.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital, I had no idea any of that was happening. I was still replaying a whispered conversation I’d overheard between two nurses:

“I heard they found a match for the Carter case.”

“A perfect match.”

Hope — something I’d almost forgotten how to feel — rushed through me. I hurried inside and stopped Daniel’s doctor.

“Please… is it true? Did they find a donor?”

He smiled, gentle and relieved. “Yes, Emily. We got the confirmation. We’re moving forward with the transplant.”

My knees almost buckled as months of fear finally loosened their grip. Tears filled my eyes — this time from gratitude.

After everything, Daniel finally had something to fight toward again.

We finally had hope.