parentsâ faces was not one of joy but of apprehension. Morgan pointed to the plumes of dyeâevidence that it had been pushed through the bloodstream via the bodyâs internal highway system. âYou can see here how the injected dye was carried by the blood vessels into the brain.â A slight nod of affirmation from the father. The mother continued to sit still. âWherever blood goes, oxygen goes. Thatâs how organs stay alive. Without blood flow, there is no oxygen delivery and that organ will die.â Morgan switched to the other X-ray. âThis is Zoeâs study.â The uneasy vibration had changed to pain, and it traveled along her muscle fibers like electricity. Everything about her body began to feel heavy. âSee how there is no indication of blood flowing up to her brain at all?â As she waited for her statement to sink in, her heart heaved with adrenaline. Morgan placed the pictures side by side. The sting of coming tears threatened to overwhelm her. Maybe what her coworkers said was true. Why do I keep doing this work? Why do I keep submitting myself to other familiesâ grief when I donât have a handle on my own? Her voice cracked as she started. âSee the difference? Zoeâs brain isnât getting any blood flow and therefore has died. Zoe is what we call brain dead. She has died. Iâm really sorry.â Ian dropped his face into his hands. A piercing pain struck Morganâs chest. She quickly blinked back her own tears as she bit hard into the inner side of her cheek to keep from breaking down; the copper taste only increased the roiling in her gut. The curtain that was pulled closed around the bed wouldnât keep Ianâs weeping from the other families who were visiting the unit. Juliaâs eyes glossed over as she clamped her lips together to quell their trembling. âHow can you say that when I can see her chest rising and falling? Her heartbeat is up on that monitor!â Morgan set the pictures down. âI know this is very confusing. The breathing machine delivers oxygen to her lungs. Because of that, her heart continues to beat. However, another test we did on Zoe even before we took her to radiology looked at whether she would breathe if the machine wasnât helping her.â The woman came up out of her seat. âAnd did she?â Morgan clenched the pictures on her lap and shook her head. âYouâre lying!â Julia grabbed Zoeâs shoulders and began to shake her daughter in the bed. The childâs straight brown hair, still with remnants of dirt and leaves embedded in the silky smooth fibers, tousled against her pillow. âZoe Marie! You wake up right now!â Ian looked dazed. His own processing of the situation paralyzed any ability he might have had to comfort his wife. Morgan came up off the chair to the motherâs side of the bed. She gripped the woman around the waist and began to move her back from her daughterâs body. And then it came, the torrential sobbing of grief as the woman latched her arms around Morganâs shoulders, barely able to keep herself standing. Through the edge of the open curtain, she could see Detective Brett Sawyer waiting in the wings. His eyes widened, and she simply shook her head as she brought her hands up and held them against the womanâs back. Ianâs voice brought her attention back. âCan we donate her organs?â Julia pulled away from Morgan. âHow can you think about that right now?â âBecause I want something good to come of what happened. I want part of her to still be alive.â Morgan assisted Julia back into her chair. âItâs possible. Weâll have to clear it with the coroner considering the circumstances. Theyâve done it in the past.â âWhy do you have to clear it with them?â Ian asked. Morgan looked at the detective again and he motioned for her. She