“What…” I was worried he would leave without saying a word, so I rushed to him and grabbed his shoulder, “Please sir, what do you think is wrong?”

He stopped with his hand on the door, the other wiedling his bag, and looked at my hand with disdain, “You call me down to examine your mother on the night of my dead daughter’s birthday, and for what? He looked out a nearby window at the cloudless night, and spoke as if his words were not aimed at me, “Do I not deserve time to mourn those who I’ve lost like everyone else?”......