Beth shook her head. "I didn't want to bring back painful memories of their loss."

"I don't think it would do that at all," said Ryan. "I think they'd be happy to hear from you. I've known my whole life, the only reason I'm here is because my biological father donated sperm to my mother.'

"Was her husband infertile?" asked Jo.

Ryan shook his head. "My mothers are lesbians, and they wanted to have a baby together, so Mom Donna's brother, my Uncle David, donated sperm to Mom Carol."

"I think that's sweet!" said Beth.

"Seems a bit confusing to me," said Jo. "So your uncle is really your father?"

"Technically, yes," said Ryan. "But I've never called him Dad. I've always just called him Uncle Dave, and he's always been fine with it."

"Well, I've never heard a story quite like that before," said Jo.

Ryan chuckled. "Probably not many people have."

The group finished eating and cleaned up after themselves, and Jo searched in her beach bag for her cell phone. She turned it on, scrolled through her contacts, and frowned.

"That's strange. I know I saved his number under my contacts."

"Whose?" asked Beth.

"Fritz's!"

"Who's that?"

"Fritz Bhaer, my friend from New York. Don't you remember? He came to visit us and brought you a cat figurine."

Beth frowned as she slowly shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Jo."

Jo groaned in frustration. "I think the sun's gone to your head, Beth. I can't believe you don't remember something that just happened a couple of days ago."

Beth's eyes grew wide. "Honestly, Jo, I don't!"

It occurred to Jo she'd been assuming no time at all had passed in her life in Concord, just as no time had passed in her life in New York, after she'd spent two days in Martina's world. But what if she was wrong? It was still summer, and Beth was still recovering from her transplant, so obviously not a lot of time had passed, but still, it might have been different this time.

"I'm sorry, Beth. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm probably just rambling on about nonsense, as usual. Never mind me."

Beth said nothing for the rest of the time they were on the beach, and Jo remained deep in thought. Perhaps she'd only dreamed of meeting Fritz after all, she thought. Perhaps she'd dreamed the whole thing, just as she'd apparently dreamed of her life as Martina with Dieter.

Perhaps she was losing her mind, her grip on reality, her ability to distinguish between fantasy and reality.

She gave an involuntary shudder.

Other issues soon occupied her thoughts, as upon the sisters' return from the beach, Beth told their mother of her interest in contacting the family of her heart donor.

"We met a boy whose biological father was a sperm donor," she said. "Talking to him made me curious to find them."

"I'll get in touch with the hospital and find out what kind of information they have," Mrs. March offered.

Several days later, she had news for her daughter.

"I've heard from the hospital," she told her. "They told me you should write a letter to the family and then get in touch with the transplant center. They'll tell you how to proceed from there. I have the address right here." She handed it to Beth.

"I'll write to them right away!" said Beth, but as soon as she had the paper and pen in front of her, she panicked.

"I don't know how to write a letter like this! How do I start?"

"How about 'Dear Family'," Jo suggested.

"Thanks," said Beth. She wrote for several minutes, then looked at her sister. "Will you please look it over and tell me if it sounds OK?"

"Sure." Jo picked the letter up and began to read it.

Dear Family,

I want to thank you so much for my new heart. I feel so much better now that I have it. For the first time, there is hope that I will be strong and healthy again, and I owe it all to you.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Beth.

"It's much too short," Jo told her. "You could tell them about your illness, about how long you had to wait for a transplant, about your hobbies and interests, about what you hope to accomplish in life. Also, don't forget they lost someone close to them. It would be nice if you expressed your regrets about their loss."

"See! You're so much better at this than me," said Beth. "Maybe you should just write the letter for me."

"What would be the point of that? Then it would be a letter from me, not from you," Jo pointed out.

Beth sighed. "You're right, of course." She chose a fresh sheet of paper and started over. She wrote for most of that afternoon, pausing frequently to think of what to say next.

Jo had showered and was settling in to watch 'Game of Thrones' when Beth meekly approached her with the revised letter. She took it from her sister and read it.

Dear Family,

My name is Beth, and I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the gift of a second chance at life.

Several years ago, I got really sick. The doctor didn't even know if I would make it or not, but he said if I did, I would have major heart damage. I recovered but was very weak. i would get tired out just from doing little things. I was put on the waiting list for a new heart.

It has now been several months since my transplant, and I feel much better. I can do things with my family again, and it's all because of your gift.

I know you have lost someone close, and I'm very sorry about that. I hope it makes you feel better to find out how much my new heart has benefited me.

"Well, what do you think?" Beth asked when Jo had finished reading the letter.

"That's much better," Jo told her.