“I beg everyone’s pardon,” Jennifer said. “I have to take this call. It’s about my grandmother.” Without waiting for a response from Dr. Peyton, she rushed out through the door into the OR’s central corridor. Sensing that even having a phone in the OR might have been considered a major no-no as she flipped it open and put it to her ear, she said, “Hold the line for a moment!” Then she ran toward the double bidirectional entrance doors. It wasn’t until she got to her earlier location in the locker room that she tried to have a conversation. She started by apologizing.

“It is no bother,” a rather high-pitched Indian voice said. “My name is Kashmira Varini, and you left a message on my voicemail. I am Maria Hernandez’s case manager.”

“I did leave a message,” Jennifer admitted. She could feel her abdominal muscles tense as to why the woman was calling. Jennifer knew it wasn’t a social call, since it must have been close to midnight in New Delhi.

“I’m calling you as you instructed. I have also just finished speaking to your father, and he advised me to call as well. He said you should be in charge.”

“In charge of what?” Jennifer asked. She knew she was playing dumb to an extent and postponing the unthinkable. The call had to be about Maria’s condition, and there was little chance of it being good news.

“In charge of arrangements. I’m afraid Maria Hernandez has passed away.”

For a moment Jennifer couldn’t speak. It seemed impossible that her grandmother could be dead.

“Are we still connected?” Kashmira questioned.

“I’m still here,” Jennifer answered. She was thunderstruck. She could not believe a day that had started out so promising was turning out so disastrous. “How can this be?” she complained irritably. “I just called your hospital maybe an hour and a half ago and was assured by the operator that my grandmother was doing just fine. I was told she was even eating and had been mobilized.”

“I’m afraid the operator did not know. All of us here at the Queen Victoria Hospital are terribly sorry about this most unfortunate state of affairs. Your grandmother was doing splendidly, and the operation to replace her hip was a complete, unqualified success. No one expected this outcome. I hope you will accept our most sincere sympathies.”

Jennifer’s mind was in a near paralysis. It was almost as if she’d been hit on the head.

“I know this is a shock,” Kashmira continued, “but I want to assure you that everything was done for Maria Hernandez that could have been done. Now, of course—”

“What did she die of?” Jennifer suddenly demanded, interrupting the case manager.

“I’m told by the doctors it was a heart attack. With no warning whatsoever of any problems, she was found in her room unconscious. Of course a full resuscitation attempt was made, but unfortunately with no response.”

“A heart attack doesn’t seem to me to be particularly likely,” Jennifer said, as her raw emotions spilled over into anger. “I happen to know she had low cholesterol, low blood pressure, normal blood sugar, and a perfectly normal cardiogram. I’m a medical student. I made sure she’d had an A-plus physical here at the UCLA Medical Center only months ago when she visited me.”