Morris unlocked the cabinet and slid the gurney out. The body was covered with a sheet. He peeled it back off Lexas face.

And it was Lexas face. Not the face of a stranger. Not the face of a cadaver. Not the face of another body. It was her face. Her beautiful young face that would never look with kindness at another patient or crease while she thought through a tricky diagnosis. She would never laugh again, never cry. Morgans eyes clouded with tears and, for a moment, it wasnt Lexa he saw, but Fiona. Hed never had this moment with his sister, never gotten closure. One day shed been there. The next shed been gone. Hed never gotten to say good-bye.

He motioned for Morris to fold the sheet down further, exposing the ugly gash across Lexas throat and the bruises on her wrists. Even as his emotions whirled, his mind catalogued the marks and injuries on her body. The bruised wrists. The broken fingernails. The scraped knees.

Hed been wrong. It was too much. He couldnt stay here. He kissed his fingers and then pressed them against Lexas forehead. It was so cold, so terribly, terribly cold.

A sob escaped him. Morris quickly pulled the sheet back up and slid Lexa back into the cabinet. Morgan grabbed onto the wall as he felt his knees go slightly weak when the latch clicked.

Do you need to sit down? Have a glass of water? Morris asked.

Morgan shook his head. No. I . . . I just need to go. I was wrong. I have nothing to add here.

Morris walked him to the elevators and Morgan made his way back to the lobby, past the surly security guard, out of the building, and then to his car. The brisk air cut through his borrowed sweatshirt and he was shivering by the time he got in the Altima. He glanced at the clock. It was only 9 a.m. He had an entire day still ahead of him. He switched on the engine and headed to his apartment. He needed a hot shower and a fresh set of clothes.

But then what?

Work?

No. His mind reeled at the thought of walking the halls without Lexa there, of having to explain to people what had happened. He didnt think he could handle it. No one would expect it of him.

Stay at the apartment then?

And do what? Watch television? Day drink? Now it was his stomach that churned.

Fine. Hed take a quick shower and then get to the hospital.

The traffic was beastly. Stop and go. Interminable and boring, yet requiring his constant attention. Maybe that was good. Maybe the distraction was what he actually needed. He felt a little more in control of himself when he finally got back to his apartment.