They will meet you in the lobby. Words about organ donation and making arrangements and bracing for unfortunate outcomes but you will hear nothing. Miranda, you will say. I just want to see Miranda. A doctor will take you to her, warning you not to get your hopes up. Brain damage and blood loss, the prospects are bleak. She’ll look alien and unlike herself, a hub of tubes and bleach-smell. Beep. Beep. You will hear the machine go off and you will see the way they surround her and push you away.
They will meet you in the lobby with condolences.