“Who are you?”

  The doctor stood in the doorway, appraising the man clutching Zoe’s hand. The glare of the lights reflected off his rectangular glasses, obscuring his eyes.

  “I’m Ever, Zoe’s boyfriend.”

  “Ah, so you’re Ever.” he stepped in, closed the door with a gentle click, then strode across to the foot of the bed. He slid a clipboard out from a bracket mounted at the foot of the bed and flipped a page. “Ever… Thanatosikos?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hm. Interesting surname.” He looked up from the clipboard at him. Now that he was closer, Ever could see - and feel - curiosity emanating from the doctor. He looked at his name badge, dangling from a lanyard around his neck: Dr. Yang.

  The doctor put the file back and started orbiting the bed. He excused himself, stepping in front of Ever as he checked up the vital signs monitor. Ever stood up and stepped out of the way just as he made his way to the other side to check Zoe’s fluids.

  Ever crossed his arms. There was also something oddly familiar about this doctor. It wasn’t that surprising; he had been in hospitals a couple times over the last several months and probably came across several doctors. Was he there when the nurses took the Polaroid photo of Gregory’s family? No, those were nurses.

  He stood up, making his way to the back wall. This angle instantly triggered a memory; he was pulled back through time to his second ever reaping, involving a young girl and bolognese that her Nonna made.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Celeste…” Ever uttered.

  This name pierced through the doctor’s focus, like a sniper shot; he looked at Ever sharply. “Did you say ‘Celeste’?”

  Ever knew that he should have aborted the conversation there, but he was suddenly overcome with a weariness that pulled his guard down.

  “Yeah. She was… someone I knew. Died young. Loved her Nonna’s spaghetti.”

  Dr. Yang stared at Ever, unblinking. Now that he was still, he could see that time had prematurely aged him. Hairs gleamed silver through his black hair while there were lines pressed in around his eyes and mouth, fissures threatening to break through his skin.

  “Yeah, I remember her.” He went back to the foot of the bed, pulling the chart out and making some notes on the first page. “You don’t really forget your first.”

  “Your first?” Ever asked.

  “Mmm.” Dr. Yang put the board back, turned around and faced Ever. He leaned slightly on the bed, crossing one foot in front of the other. “I’d just begun my rotation into palliative care. She was the first patient whose life I had to end.”

  Ever became very still. “Are you still doing it?”

  “You mean palliative care? Yeah, the rotations last a year. I’ll be moving into paediatrics next year, but not for another three or four months.”

  There was a growing lump in Ever’s throat; he had to ask the question.

  “Is Zoe… is she…?”

  Even through his tears, Ever could see the pity that Dr. Yang allowed to surface to his face.

  “Mr. Thanatosikos, Zoe only has a few months left to live.”