A nurse stepped forward. “What’s your name, ma’am? And your relationship to the patient?”
“Amanda. I’m Amanda Scott. She’s my best friend—more like a sister. She was rushing to my father’s burial when…” The tears came again, hot and violent. “Please, just let me see her.”
Before the nurse could respond, a doctor in white coat approached, his expression grave.
“Is this the lady you called me about?” he asked the staff quietly.
“Yes, doctor. She’s a close friend of the patient.”
The doctor nodded. “Come with me.”
He led me into a small office, away from the noise of the ward. My heart hammered with desperate hope.
“Where is she? Can I see her now?”
The doctor closed the door behind us, then turned to face me. His eyes were heavy with the kind of sorrow only those who deliver bad news
