I've been to hospitals many times.

Whenever kids at the orphanage got sick, when my best friend, Betty lost her leg, and even when my father died.

But I couldn't remember the sinking feeling in my chest as Louis was wheeled away. I could barely hear the sound of the doctor's barking orders over my heart pounding in my chest.

I wanted to follow them, to hold him and hope he could hear me — to tell him I loved him, even if it was going to be the last time. Yet, my legs refused to work and I stood, dazed in the middle of the wreckage.

My knees buckled...