The terminal was loud—people running, announcements echoing, kids screaming. But for Laura, it was all a blur.
She sat frozen near Gate B17, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, hands clenched around a small velvet box. Her son, Ethan, would have turned 24 today.
He died exactly one year ago. A motorcycle accident. One call from the police, and her world stopped spinning.
Inside the box was his old dog tag—scratched, worn, with a tiny photo of the two of them taped inside. She carried it everywhere, especially on his birthday.
People walked past, polite and indifferent. Some glanced, most didn’t care. Until one man stopped.
He was maybe in his 30s. Wavy brown hair. Hoodie. Carry-on slung over one shoulder.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked gently.
She nodded, quickly wiping her tears. “Yes, just… remembering.”
He sat beside her without saying a word. Then, without asking, he opened his arms slightly.
She didn’t know why—but she leaned in.
It was just a brief hug. But something about it felt… familiar.
As he pulled away, his voice broke:
“I think I’ve been looking for you.”
Laura stared at him, confused.
He reached into his shirt and pulled out a medical chain—with a donor tag.
“Last year… I was in a coma. Liver failure. Stage four. Doctors said I had hours. Then a miracle happened. A donor. I didn’t know who. They don’t tell you names.”
He paused, eyes glassy.
“But the dog tag in your hand… it was in the file they gave me. I remember it. They said the donor’s mother never left the hospital. That she kissed her son’s forehead and whispered, ‘Make someone else’s life beautiful now.’”
Laura froze. Her breath caught.
Tears spilled again—but not just from grief.
From something else.
Hope. Connection. Healing.
✨ Cú twist cảm động:
He handed her a folded piece of paper. “I wrote him a letter. I was going to leave it at the donation center next month. But maybe… you’d want to read it.”
Inside, it read:
“Dear Ethan,
You saved my life. You didn’t know me, but I promise I’ll live a life worth your sacrifice. I wake up every day thinking of you—and the mother who gave me a second chance.
Thank you for every breath.”
They sat together until her flight was called.
When she walked away, she looked back at the man who once was a stranger.
Now, he was something more.