The door to Sam's office still had his name on it, the brushed metal nameplate catching the fluorescent light: Samuel Kelly, MD, FACS - Pediatric Cardiac Surgery. Rory's hand trembled as she turned the handle, the familiar resistance of the slightly sticky door bringing a fresh wave of grief. How many times had she teased him about getting maintenance to fix it?
The room was exactly as he'd left it that morning, frozen in time like some terrible museum exhibit. His white coat hung on the back of the door, the embroidered Cedars-Sinai logo slightly faded from countless washings. A half-empty cup of coffee sat on his desk, a perfect ring of brown staining the papers beneath it. Sam had always been terrible about using coasters, claiming they were "just one more thing to keep track of."
The
