My internet wasn't working this morning, so I've got another chapter written.

Ch. 18
"Excuse me, we're looking for the guest of room 907."

"Sorry, ma'am, the gentleman has already checked out this morning."

"Really?" Cristina was bewildered. "It's only 10am now."

"Yes, but he checked out really early. I heard he's trying to catch his flight to Alabama."

Disappointment swept through the two women. Rose felt like her husband was running away from them once more.

Along with disappointment, Cristina was worried. "I was hoping to come back and check on him. He's supposed to stay and rest."

"You mean, he's not feeling well?" Rose covered her mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry, Rose. He's very ill." Cristina averted her gaze. After many years of medical training, she was still uncomfortable in breaking the news to relatives of dying patients.

"Is that why he was here in Seattle?" Rose wanted to make sense of it.

"I think he's here to see Preston, although Samuel refused to actually talk to him."

The air was stuffed with a sadness that was not supposed to be present on such a festive day.

Rose smiled melancholically. "It's funny how I just got here and he's going back to Alabama."

"Perhaps he wanted to go home and see you again." It all began to make sense to Cristina, for Samuel had always insisted on not spending Thanksgiving at the hospital. "He knows he's going to die."

"Oh, Cristina!" Overcome with emotion, Rose held her daughter-in-law tightly.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. Maybe we're predestined not to meet again in this life."

"Rose, do you want to go to our home now?"

"Can we go back to the airport and see if his flight has departed yet? I don't think there're that many flights to Birmingham from Seattle."

The fortitude in her voice unsettled Cristina.

"OK. I already told Preston we'd be hanging out a bit before going home."

"But let me just call to tell him again. You know, he gets worried all the time, easily."

A gentle sigh came from Rose. "I know. My boy is a delicate creative. That's why I don't want to let him see me looking so wretched right now."

"Oh no, my phone is out of battery again." Cristina bit her lips.

"So is mine. I forgot to pack my charger."

"Let me go and make a few phone calls at the booth. Can you wait at the lobby?"

"Sure. Maybe I'll ask the concierge to see if he knew which flight Sam might be taking."

The two women hurried off in different directions to complete their mission.

"Hi, Jenny. It's Dr. Yang calling. I'm just checking in to see if you left me any messages because my phone is dead."

"Dr. Yang. Has Dr. Burke told you about the patient already? I think he said you left your pager at home."

"What patient?"

"Oh, we got a man who's been robbed and is still unconscious. We found your name card in his pocket. Thought you might know who he is."

"Oh my God. How old is he? Is he injured? Is he doing OK?"

The intern had never seen Cristina Yang act so frantic about any patient before. "He's probably in his late 60s. We didn't find any visible wounds, but we ran some tests. Looks like he has terminal liver cancer that's inoperable?"

"Right, Jenny. Keep an eye on him. His life is your sole responsibility now. I'll be back in a dash. You better make sure he's still alive when I get here."

Without putting the phone speaker back properly, Cristina ran to find her in-law.

"Rose, I know where he is. We need to go to the hospital now."