Once in her office she sat at the desk and thought for a long time. During the board meeting she had come to a major decision. A life changing, life ending decision. Over the space of two weeks she had lost every constant in her life – her lover, her husband, her job and her career. She had watched it all fall away and had been powerless to prevent it. Connie didn't do well with being out of control but no matter what she did, events were being taken out of her hands. It had reached a point where she could see one way and one way only of regaining some control over her fate. She had little left here now – an empty flat full of memories, a job which would never satisfy her and probably divorce proceedings to look forward to. That wasn't what she wanted in her future – the very thought filled her with dread. If that was her future, she had decided whilst tuned out of one of Zubin's well rehearsed diatribes, then she didn't want to have a future. It was this realisation that had led her to pause, only for a moment, on her walk to her office and extract from the drugs cabinet two small vials of morphine and a hypodermic syringe.

Late in the evening, alone in her office, she fingered the vials of morphine that she had taken from the drug trolley wondering how something that looked so innocuous could be so destructive. It looked a lot like water and yet it could kill people and people would kill to obtain some. It saved some people from excruciating pain but caused such pain to be inflicted on others. Slowly she took the hypodermic syringe and drew a large measure into it before pressing the needle to her arm, barely wincing as it penetrated her skin and plunged deep into her vein. She didn't even flinch as she pushed down the plunger and flooded her body with a lethal dose. This drug had taken everything from her and now it was going to take her as well.

For several moments nothing happened but slowly she became aware of her body reacting to the toxin within it. Her hands became clammy, her heart was pounding and her head felt completely empty, as if every worry she had ever had was just floating away. For a moment she could see how people like Tom Lister became addicted to this drug. These thoughts were interrupted by a rhythmic banging and the door flying open as Michael ploughed into the office, his apologies already in full flow. For a while she sat and watched him grovel, feeling strangely removed from what was happening inside the room. She listened to him talk about how he had finished her career because he thought it would be for the best. Because without surgery she would find it difficult to be an effective Medical Director. Because if she was less focussed on her career then their relationship might stand a chance. He even said that he wanted them to have children, a suggestion that caused her to emit a bitter laugh. When they started out children had been what she wanted but he'd convinced her that she didn't. Now apparently her long forgotten desire for a child was not only understandable but to be encouraged. Because he suddenly felt ready for children she had to tow the line. Not this time. She heard every word of his well rehearsed speech but none of them made any impact upon her. Eventually he stopped and looked at her strangely as if he had only just noticed that something was awry. All at once his movements became frantic and he came towards her, catching her as she lost the battle to remain upright and crumpled towards him.

'God, what have you taken?' she heard him say but found herself incapable of answering. As his eyes alighted on the two small vials on her desk and widened slightly she realised that she didn't have to 'Oh Connie, tell me you haven't' he groaned, an element of panic in his voice. He was in no doubt that she had and she shut her eyes, unable to bear to see the pain in his eyes. No matter how dreadful a husband he had been and no matter how many times he professionally slaughtered her she had never wanted to hurt him like this. As she drifted away from consciousness she heard yelling as he cried out for help, praying that it wasn't too late to save her. She became aware of several nurses crowding around her and working to save her but she didn't want them to. She wanted them to let her go and Michael seemed to sense this because moments before Zubin ventilated her he shouted at them to stop. Shouted that it wasn't what she would have wanted. She had never realised that he knew her so well. For a while she drifted, aware of people moving out of the room eventually leaving her alone with only Michael and a couple of other people. In the distance she heard someone say her name and prised her eyes open. It sounded so much like Ric that for a moment she believed that he was still alive but as she looked around blearily at the out of focus figures she saw only Michael, sobbing quietly as he held her uninjured hand in his and felt another surge of guilt. It was guilt but not regret that she felt as the world finally went black and it was over.