Chapter 3: It’s probably nothing
Of all the dozens of people on that road, why did it have to be Mikel?
It was the question Mikel had asked himself many times over the past two months since the incident that had left him blind. He was standing nearly the farthest from the crash, yet that metal fragment just had to land in his eye.
He looked up at his attending doctor with his left eye covered by a bandage. Mikel's physical appearance had changed — he had lost weight, and his remaining eye was still blurry, a result of the incident. His complexion was pale, and his skin sagged slightly.
"I can... regain my vision?" His voice carried disbelief.
For the past grueling months, he had been told he might never regain his sight, and one of his eyes had already deteriorated. After all, a metal shard had grazed it, too.
The doctor smiled and nodded. "We found you a match, Mikel. And you don't have to worry about the cost because of what type of surgery it was. All you have to do is decide as soon as possible. Time is important."
A small bubble of hope crept into his chest. Despite his blind left eye and blurry right eye, for the first time in two months, he saw a sliver of hope shining down on him.
So, the doctor's question wasn't really a question. Who wouldn't want to see again, especially with the chances of going completely blind so high?
Even so, he asked the most obvious question at this point:
"What's the catch? Doc, if there isn't, you wouldn't be asking me this."
"You're right," the doctor sighed. "It's just that the donor who matched yours... has a unique eye color. The color isn't the same as yours."