"At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read loss, only feel it."

- Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

5

Rose was killed by a drunk driver. She had baby Ben in the backseat. Emmett, the man she'd loved for fifteen years, was following her home. He saw the whole thing.

That night they'd met up at a charity dinner for Emmett's company in separate cars. Emmett came from work, Rose from home. Ben was only eight months old and slept like a trooper, so he was easy enough for Rose to just take with her that night. He was dozing in his baby seat throughout, oblivious to the ogles and cooing, and he stayed asleep during the car ride home. I prayed he was still asleep and far too young to process the horrific feeling of being t-boned through an intersection by the selfish asshole who thought driving home wasted was a great idea. By some small miracle, Rose's car came to a stop just before it would have collided with a lamppost, right in line with Ben's car seat.

Rose was a beautiful mother. It took two miscarriages before she conceived Ben. I couldn't believe when she felt like she should apologize for the first one. I had been excited to be an aunt for the first time, but it was crazy that she thought she had disappointed us when it didn't work out, like she could have done anything to prevent it. She almost gave up after the second. It was so disheartening for her, trying so hard for something she really wanted, only to be told that something had gone wrong. Alice and I gifted them a vacation in San Francisco for their wedding anniversary, hoping that the time away would do her good, and five weeks later, she had confirmation of her pregnancy with Ben.

I knew something had happened that night, even before my phone rang. Alice and I sent each other a text message simultaneously. Something isn't right. Not five minutes after, a policeman spoke to me from Emmett's cell. I learned afterwards that Emmett had hit dial and thrust it towards him. Get my sister here. The officer's words haunted me for weeks. There's been an accident. I'm sorry. You need to come to the hospital.

The worst phone call I'd ever had to make was the one to Alice. We didn't have a lot of detail yet, but the premise itself was enough. She took the job of calling our parents. For the first time Renee didn't hesitate and said she would get the next available flight from Phoenix. Charlie was off-duty and Alice was going to pick him up with Jasper. I called Emmett's family for him as I ran across the hospital parking lot. They had to get a flight up from their vacation in Hawaii. There was this window of time where it was a scramble to get hold of everyone, and then I was bursting through the doors of the ER department. The look of Em's blood-smeared face as he came in through the ambulance bay spoke instantly of how bad this was going to be.

As much as they tried, Rose was gone. The doctors told us as we stood in her hospital room that it was likely that she didn't feel much pain. The internal injuries killed her quickly. There was too much damage; they were fighting a losing battle as soon as the paramedics brought her through the doors. Do you want to harvest any organs? We think that only the lungs are viable; it may have been too long for the heart. The actual dying was only one part of it. I never imagined all of the questions, decisions, and vast, vast emotions that came along when you lost someone so close.

"She was a donor," Charlie mumbled.

"Not her heart," Alice said.

"No, not her heart," I echoed.

It didn't seem right talking about her like that when the machines where still inflating her chest as if she were breathing. It was a cruel deception that made it hard to believe the reality of what the medical professionals were telling us.

"It's okay, just the lungs, if you all agree," the doctor said.

I got a tiny nod out of Emmett when I squeezed him. I nodded to the doctor that we all agreed. It was what Rose would have wanted.

"I'm sorry, but we'll need to take her now then, before it's too late," he said, already making a move, my mind ticking over as I watched.

It is too late. If it wasn't too late, Rose would still be here. You all keep saying sorry. What exactly are you sorry for?

Through the glass to the next emergency room I could see them attending to baby Ben. Now that this decision had been made, my attention had to return to him. He shouldn't be alone.