In Darkling Wood [antikvár]

MONPAY11 November At 3.23 a.m. the hospital call to say a heart's been found. Put like that, it almost sounds funny, as if someone's just discovered it in a rubbish bin or on a doorstep like happens in the nev^s sometimes w^ith tiny babies. Except that's not hov^ it is. What they really mean is someone's died. A stranger, carrying a donor card, has stopped living. It's hard not to think of that person's family and what the hospital have had to tell them tonight. Yet without that donor heart my little brother will stop living too. So for once, I think we're the lucky ones. The first I know of it is a beeping noise near my head. It's my brother Theo's favourite and most annoying joke. Last time he set my alarm clock for 3 a.m. I got him back by putting cheese in his