let herself in. Her parents were talking in hushed tones to Dr. DuPree. Her mother looked as if shed been crying. “What’s wrong?” Erin asked, instantly alert.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Erin,” her father said. His expression was grim, guarded. “Dr. DuPree was just going over the latest Glasgow test results.”
“So what’s the score?” Erin licked her lips. Her mouth had gone dry.
Dr. DuPree cleared his throat. “We’ve lowered Amy to a one-one-one. ‘
Erin’s stomach twisted into a knot. Suddenly she felt trapped and cornered. “Why are we in this room?”
“Your mother and I want you to talk to a man we met with earlier this evening,” Mr. Bennett said. As if on cue the door opened and a man entered. He was tall and had black hair and a mustache. Erin’s brows knitted together. She recognized him, but from where?
“Hi, Erin.” The man thrust out his hand. “I’m Roger Fogerty.”
Memory clicked into place. Neuro-ICU. A modelof a plastic brain. Words from a stranger with kind brown eyes. She’d asked,
“Are you a doctor?”
He’d answered,
“No. But I work with the staff here.”
Erin took his hand, hesitant, wary. “Why are you here?”
His grip was firm and warm. His eyes caught and held hers hypnotically. “I’m with the Florida Organ and Tissue Donor Program.”
Chapter Fourteen
Erin blinked, bewildered. Why would someone from the organ-donor program be here? Was one of Amy’s major organs failing? Did they want to try some experimental transplantation technique on her? “I–I don’t understand.…”
“This is always a difficult conversation for me to have with families, Erin. Would you like to sit down?”
“No.”
Mr. Fogerty laid a briefcase on the table. Dr. DuPree stood beside him, and her parents sat rigidly in chairs on the other side of the table. Their shoulders were touching, but Erin thought they somehow looked miles apart. Mr. Fogerty snapped open the case and pulled out some papers. “I spoke with your parents earlier, Erin. Now I’d like to tell you about the donor program. About how the donation of organs can extend the lives of others. And about how some sort of meaning can be derived from your sisters tragedy.”
“Donors are dead people.”
“That’s true, and—”
“Amy’s not dead,” Erin interrupted. “I’ve just come from her room.”
Mr. Fogerty glanced quickly at the Bennetts. Dr.DuPree came forward and leaned across the table. His voice was gentle as he told her, “Her pupils are fixed and dilated. The results of her EEG show that she’s had no brain activity for about six hours.”
Erin’s gaze flew to her mother, who lifted a trembling chin. Erin took a step backward. Dr. DuPree continued. “We’ve run many tests, Erin. Blood-flow studies to the cerebral area, CAT scans—the newest, the best tests—and they all indicate that Amy is brain dead.”
“Dr. DuPree has determined that there’s absolutely no hope of recovery,” Mr. Fogerty said very gently. “Now it’s time to consider your alternatives. And donating Amy’s organs is one of them.”
Stupefied, Erin sputtered, “So that’s what this is all about? You want to use her organs, and you need our permission?”
“The entire family has to be in agreement,” Mr. Fogerty said.
Mrs. Bennett said, “You seemed pleased for your friend Beth’s mother when she got news about her kidney transplant.” Her face looked haggard and haunted, and Erin recalled how pretty her mother liked to keep herself.
“Th-that was different. The guy was already dead.”
“Erin,” her father spoke so quietly that she had to strain toward him. “So is Amy.”
The room was silent. Erin heard the sound of her own blood rushing to her ears. “I don’t believe you.” But the look on her parents’ faces took away her assurance.“I was just in her room, and I know she’s alive.”
“If we unhooked her from the ventilator, she’d stop breathing in minutes, and all
“We’ve been waiting for you, Erin,” her father said. His expression was grim, guarded. “Dr. DuPree was just going over the latest Glasgow test results.”
“So what’s the score?” Erin licked her lips. Her mouth had gone dry.
Dr. DuPree cleared his throat. “We’ve lowered Amy to a one-one-one. ‘
Erin’s stomach twisted into a knot. Suddenly she felt trapped and cornered. “Why are we in this room?”
“Your mother and I want you to talk to a man we met with earlier this evening,” Mr. Bennett said. As if on cue the door opened and a man entered. He was tall and had black hair and a mustache. Erin’s brows knitted together. She recognized him, but from where?
“Hi, Erin.” The man thrust out his hand. “I’m Roger Fogerty.”
Memory clicked into place. Neuro-ICU. A modelof a plastic brain. Words from a stranger with kind brown eyes. She’d asked,
“Are you a doctor?”
He’d answered,
“No. But I work with the staff here.”
Erin took his hand, hesitant, wary. “Why are you here?”
His grip was firm and warm. His eyes caught and held hers hypnotically. “I’m with the Florida Organ and Tissue Donor Program.”
Chapter Fourteen
Erin blinked, bewildered. Why would someone from the organ-donor program be here? Was one of Amy’s major organs failing? Did they want to try some experimental transplantation technique on her? “I–I don’t understand.…”
“This is always a difficult conversation for me to have with families, Erin. Would you like to sit down?”
“No.”
Mr. Fogerty laid a briefcase on the table. Dr. DuPree stood beside him, and her parents sat rigidly in chairs on the other side of the table. Their shoulders were touching, but Erin thought they somehow looked miles apart. Mr. Fogerty snapped open the case and pulled out some papers. “I spoke with your parents earlier, Erin. Now I’d like to tell you about the donor program. About how the donation of organs can extend the lives of others. And about how some sort of meaning can be derived from your sisters tragedy.”
“Donors are dead people.”
“That’s true, and—”
“Amy’s not dead,” Erin interrupted. “I’ve just come from her room.”
Mr. Fogerty glanced quickly at the Bennetts. Dr.DuPree came forward and leaned across the table. His voice was gentle as he told her, “Her pupils are fixed and dilated. The results of her EEG show that she’s had no brain activity for about six hours.”
Erin’s gaze flew to her mother, who lifted a trembling chin. Erin took a step backward. Dr. DuPree continued. “We’ve run many tests, Erin. Blood-flow studies to the cerebral area, CAT scans—the newest, the best tests—and they all indicate that Amy is brain dead.”
“Dr. DuPree has determined that there’s absolutely no hope of recovery,” Mr. Fogerty said very gently. “Now it’s time to consider your alternatives. And donating Amy’s organs is one of them.”
Stupefied, Erin sputtered, “So that’s what this is all about? You want to use her organs, and you need our permission?”
“The entire family has to be in agreement,” Mr. Fogerty said.
Mrs. Bennett said, “You seemed pleased for your friend Beth’s mother when she got news about her kidney transplant.” Her face looked haggard and haunted, and Erin recalled how pretty her mother liked to keep herself.
“Th-that was different. The guy was already dead.”
“Erin,” her father spoke so quietly that she had to strain toward him. “So is Amy.”
The room was silent. Erin heard the sound of her own blood rushing to her ears. “I don’t believe you.” But the look on her parents’ faces took away her assurance.“I was just in her room, and I know she’s alive.”
“If we unhooked her from the ventilator, she’d stop breathing in minutes, and all
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