When I pulled back into the driveway, Daniel’s car was already there.
I smiled.
Perfect timing.
Then I opened the front door.
And heard laughter.
A woman’s laugh.
A laugh I recognized immediately.
Esther.
My sister.
For a moment my brain tried to explain it away.
Maybe she stopped by. Maybe they were talking in the kitchen.
But the house felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too intimate.
I walked slowly down the hallway toward our bedroom.
The door was almost closed.
I pushed it open.
And everything changed.
Esther stood by the dresser, her shirt half unbuttoned.
Daniel was scrambling to pull up his jeans.
Both of them froze when they saw me.
“Grace… you’re home early,” Daniel stammered.
Esther didn’t even step away from him.
I felt something inside my chest break.
Not loudly.
Just… permanently.
“You know,” I said quietly, “I always thought organ donation was the most painful thing I’d ever experience.”
Neither of them spoke.
