She looked tired, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, her eyes red around the edges.

“She went peacefully,” Dr. Rao said, looking directly at Ethan. “Her heart simply could not take any more strain.”

Ethan looked down at the floor, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets.

“Can I see her?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” Dr. Rao said. “But we have to prepare her for the transport soon. You have a little time.”

I walked over to the small waiting alcove where I had left Lauren’s things.

Her small pink backpack sat on the vinyl chair, the zipper broken at the top and held together with a safety pin.

I picked it up, the cheap fabric cold against my fingers.

I carried it back to the hallway and held it out to Ethan.

“Take this with you,” I said. “It has her things in it. Lauren will want to know you have it.”

Ethan looked at the small, dirty backpack.

He took it from my hands, holding it by the top loop as if it were made of glass.