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and that’s why it was a good fit for you.” Darcy glanced at Mike. “Could that be right?”
    “Yes, it could.”
    “Do you have a picture of Riley?” Taylor asked.
    “Over there.” Darcy nodded at the picture of Riley and Pete by the door. “But there’s a better one in here.” She led the way to the living room, and the portrait of Riley in his baseball uniform. “That was taken a couple of weeks before…before the accident.”
    “He’s cute,” Taylor said. “I like his freckles.”
    “I imagine the two of you could have been friends,” Darcy said. When he’d died, Riley had been at the age where he thought of girls as “icky” but maybe by now he’d see them differently. Darcy swallowed hard. No. She couldn’t let her thoughts dwell on what might have been. Mike had joined them in the living room. “Why did Taylor need the transplant?” she asked.
    His sadness intensified. Had she been out of line to ask him to recall what must have been a terrifying time? But it was too late to take back the question now. “When she was nine she developed cardiomyopathy,” he said. “An inflammation of the heart muscle. It’s usually caused by some kind of infection, but we’re not sure what caused it or where it came from. By the time hers was diagnosed, the heart muscle was damaged beyond repair.”
    “How horrible.”
    “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “How could a pediatrician have missed such a serious illness in his own daughter? But it’s not like the flu or an infected toenail. And Taylor isn’t the type to complain.”
    “I wasn’t thinking any such thing,” she said. Mike clearly adored his daughter. But she recognized his guilt—those silent accusations that intimated her son would be okay today if she had only been a better parent.
    “There’s no danger now,” Mike said. “As long as Taylor’s careful and remembers to take her medication.”
    “I was distracted today,” Taylor said, blushing. “I won’t forget again.” She glanced at Darcy. “Dad’s always worried I’m going to overdo it, or that I’ll catch some infection from someone. He doesn’t even like me to go to the mall.”
    “He wants to protect you,” Darcy said. “It’s what parents do.”
    “I think it’s ’cause he’s a doctor,” Taylor said. “He sees sick people all day and reads medical journals full of articles about horrible diseases, then he imagines everything bad that can happen.”
    That wasn’t it, Darcy thought. Mike knew all the bad things that could happen because he’d lived them. Children weren’t supposed to have to get new hearts to stay alive, but his had. Who could blame him for fearing the worst after that? “You’re lucky to have a father who cares so much.”
    Mike sent her a look of gratitude and sympathy. How had she ever lumped him with the arrogant and distant physicians she’d encountered? Though in truth, maybe even those doctors weren’t so bad, and her impressions were colored by the circumstances.
    Still, Mike was different. Losing a child, or almost losing one, left scars only someone who had been through the same thing could understand. “Come on, Taylor, it’s time we went home,” Mike said. “Back to your life of drudgery and oppression.”
    Taylor rolled her eyes.
    Darcy walked them to the door. Taylor ran ahead to the car, but Mike paused for a moment. “Will you contact the Donor Alliance?” he asked.
    “Yes. Just to confirm our suspicions.”
    “I’m sorry if this has upset you.”
    She glanced past him, at Taylor climbing into the backseat of the car. She’d been drawn to Taylor from their first meeting. Was it because she recognized something of her son in the child? “I’m glad you were able to find a donor for her, even if it wasn’t Riley.”
    “Thank you.” He joined her in watching Taylor. “She’s right,” he said. “I do worry too much. I can’t seem to help it.”
    “Maybe you’ll worry less as she gets