Finally a gurney burst through the doors, surrounded by three familiar paramedics who were joined by doctors and nurses. They wheeled the gurney into a trauma room—the same room, ironically, she’d been wheeled into before—but the medics, having given all the information they could, stood in the hall and watched the doors close. They stood talking for a moment, and then one of them spotted me. He went to the nurses’ station and leaned across the counter, talking to one of the nurses and pointing in my direction. She nodded and looked back at me, then resumed her work.

I wondered how long we’d have to wait for news of her condition. The medics milled around for a few minutes, then disappeared when I wasn’t looking. Not much time had passed when people began to appear from the trauma room. One of the doctors spoke to the nurse at the station who had talked with the medic, and she pointed me out to him. Just as he started toward me, a loud group of people poured into the ER—the rest of the cast. They quickly saw Carl and me in the small curtained room and ran over. The doctor walked past the group, his eyes focused on me, and before he even reached me, I knew what he was going to say.

“You are the gentleman that—”

“Just tell me.” I cut him off with a voice that sounded nothing like mine.

He took a breath and looked me in the eyes. “We did all we could to revive her, but it didn’t work. I’m sorry.”

The doctors face dissolved as tears spilled down my cheeks. I leaned my head back onto the stiff hospital pillow and listened to the muffled cries and gasps from the rest of the group. The doctor who had been extracting glass from my knees slowly disappeared behind the curtain that shielded us from the rest of the waiting room. The cast crowded around my bed, all of us sobbing and hugging in disbelief that Dianne was in that room over there and no longer alive.

I’ve never cried at anyone else’s story, but as Jack speaks, I look away, blinking and trying to distract myself so as not to break down. We sit awkwardly, and I hope Grace won’t show up again and see us in this state. When Jack finishes, I hear him take a deep breath and stand. “Want anything else to drink?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Thanks, no, I’m fine.” I dab at my eyes with the napkin in my hand, feeling foolish. “Want to break for a bit?”

He looks at his watch. “It’s been a long week.”

I smile. “Yeah, these projects can be really draining.”

“Maybe we should start up again Monday. Grace can start her end of things again for you.”