Robert Romano sat quietly reading the Sunday paper at the counter of Doc Magoo's. His plum colored button up shirt, paired with a matching plum and lilac tie and black slacks gave him more of a lawyer's look than a doctor's. The giveaway was the white lab coat, slightly bloodstained on the front from an earlier trauma, strewn across the stool next to him. A deliberately placed deterrent to any colleague or other detriment to society that might have the inclination to sit near him. Robert absentmindedly picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. His face contorted in disgust. 'You'd think you'd need a PHD to make a decent cup of coffee,' he thought to himself as he dumped the burnt brew into the sink on the other side of the counter.

He dropped a dollar and some change onto the counter, picked up his jacket and paper, and went to walk out the door. In the back of the diner he noticed a young blonde girl looking at him. She could have only been 15. She looked familiar. He wondered if he'd see her in the ER before, maybe even the OR. He brushed it off and walked out of the building and across the street back to the hospital.

***

          An hour or two later, just as he was walking by the elevator, Robert's pager began to vibrate at his hip. He looked quickly and noticed that it was the code for the ER. He snuck between the enclosing doors a second before they shut. Someone was probably in need of a surgical consult. He thought that odd though, considering he hadn't heard of any big traumas coming in and Elizabeth was supposed to be handling the ER today.

          Romano walked quickly out of the elevator and over to admit. He noticed the same young blonde girl from the restaurant sitting in chairs. He saw Abby talking on her cell phone, it didn't seem like a casual conversation, but he knew it wasn't hospital business either so he decided to interrupt her. "Ms. Lockhart, can I have a word with you?" he asked, visibly annoyed. "That is, if your personal matters aren't too pressing," he added sarcastically.

          Abby sighed in frustration, "Listen Maggie, I gotta go. I'll call you back later. Please take your meds." She hung up the phone and mouthed a quick apology to Dr. Romano about her mother's mental health and other family troubles.

          "Not my business, not my problem, not on my time," he told her hurriedly and then looked over at the girl in chairs. "That girl there, the blonde with the curls. What's she here for?"

          "That's actually why I paged you. Her mother's here waiting on oncology in Exam 2, name's Tracy Warner. Says she knows you, wants to speak with you."

          "Never heard of her," he said without thinking too hard. That must be why the girl looks familiar, he though, mother's a past patient. "Why's she here?"

Abby took a look at her chart, "Presented with a laceration on the hand from a piece of broken glass. Wouldn't clot. She's stage 4 Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. Possible refractory, she hasn't been responding to chemo."

"Any other symptoms?" Romano asked her, now trying to remember who this woman was.

"She's anemic and her spleen is swollen. Might need a splenectomy."

"I'll be the judge of that," he said snatching the chart from her hand and walking away towards the exam room.

Robert knocked lightly on the door to announce his presence before he stepped into the room. "Mrs. Warner," he saw the woman lying on the bed. Her face was sallow and drawn, her eyes dark and sunken. Her hand was wrapped in fresh white gauze, while her head was wrapped in a kerchief that, Robert guessed, hid her hairless head. Her chart said she was only a year younger than he, but he would have thought her to be at least 10 years his senior. This was the kind of consult he hated the most, because he knew that whatever he did would not save this woman. "How are you feeling?"

"It's Miss Warner actually, I'm not married. But please Robert, call me Tracy," she rasped in a weak voice.

"Tracy," Robert paused, taking the name in. He tried his hardest to remember this woman. She couldn't have been a patient. He'd remember a disease like this. "How is it, exactly, that I know you?"

"We met at my cousin's graduation party right after you finished med school," she noticed the puzzled look on his face. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to remember me, but I remember you. You gave me one of the greatest gifts of my life. I came here to thank you."

"How'd you find me?" Robert asked, slightly stunned by the fact that he'd left such an impression on a woman he met nearly 16 years ago. Then he realized it wasn't the question he should be asking. "Why'd you find me?"

"I hired a private investigator that specializes in locating family members," the whole time Tracy had been talking she had been staring past Robert in sort of a daze. Now she looked him directly in the eyes. "I don't have any family or close friends. And I know I don't have much longer until the cancer wins out. I need you to take care of my daughter. Take care of our daughter."

Robert Romano's eyes widened and his head began to spin. A flood of memories rushed through his mind. Jason Warner's graduation party, Jason's sexy cousin. Too much wine, too little supervision, and too caught up in the moment to care. Robert sat down on a chair in the corner of the room to take this information in.