Ava furrowed her brow and tried to think. Once she’d handed over her patients to the next shift, her mental processing after night duty took that little bit longer. While she tried not to get too bogged down with his guilt, or the fact that she was the one he was feeling guilty about, her brain reeled with the inconsistency of what she knew about long-term coma patients. It wasn’t a situation she’d had much experience with in Alice Springs, as any such patient would be airlifted out. ‘Is long-term care usual with a flat EEG? To be maintained on respiratory support for that long?’ Ava had always thought flat brainwaves meant flat brainwaves – forever. Tragedy in a shell of a body. The ultimate donation of life with a harvest of organs.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel and she winced and looked away. How badly did she need to know? She shouldn’t have asked. He deserved his privacy. ‘Don’t answer if you don’t want to.’ Then she had another thought. ‘Or maybe it would help if you haven’t talked about this stuff with anyone.’ It wasn’t exactly her idea of a light pre-breakfast conversation, but if it would help Zac, her new friend, ex-lover – whatever he was or could be – then she would survive.

A minute passed, then two, but it didn’t faze Ava; she and patience were old friends. It was a part of her work.

‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘After the accident, within a day, the hospital suggested organ donation and the removal of ventilatory support. It was Roslyn’s parents who insisted she be admitted to a private facility. In case of a miracle.’ He shook his head and she knew he didn’t agree. ‘I didn’t feel I had the right to overrule them.’

His hand lifted briefly from the wheel, as if trying to catch the sense of the past. ‘But she lay for months, unchanged, except towards the end her chest became worse – a hospital-acquired infection. Her body was racked with fever and she wasted away in front of us, every day thinner, more wraith-like, trapped in our decision to maintain life support despite the fact that everything real, everything that made her Roslyn, was gone.’

‘Pull over, Zac. I’d like you tell me, but you don’t need to do it while you’re driving.’

He looked at her a little startled, but he did what she asked. When he’d stopped and turned off the engine, staring straight ahead with his hands resting lightly on the wheel, she murmured quietly, ‘Thank you. Did she die or was life support withdrawn?’

‘We turned it off.’ The words fell like cold stones between them and she blew out a breath. Tough love.