Disclaimer: see my profile, please
I've done this job for years. Every time I cut into a body, I wonder about their lives, even though I learned to distance myself from the dead so I can do my job. Most days I succeed despite wondering about them.
Then, she walked into the morgue to see her father. She reminded me of my daughter, even though she spoke Russian and heavily accented English.
I watched and I listened to her tell her father thank you for coming for her and not giving up on her. She told him she loved him. My heart ripped into pieces for her. I wished for the first time in years that there were some way I could turn back the clock and bring him back to her.
I can't make that happen. I'm only a flawed human that can't change what people do to each other. I can't bring him back for her. As much as I want to, I can't change what happened to either of them.
Sometimes I hate this job!