‘I’m afraid she’s dead,’ unveiled the doctor. A silence settled on the room as the family took this in.
‘You’re sure?’ proclaimed Lois, quietly. The doctor nodded.
‘I’m terribly sorry,’ he conversed. ‘It was a peaceful end.’
‘Did she...’ Lois vocalised. ‘Did she have any last words?’
‘Yes,’ nodded the doctor, nodding. ‘She epitaphed a few words before she left us. “Tell my children I love them,” she stated. Then she recapitulated “all of them,” and shortly after that, she went.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ philosophised Lois. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone.’
‘I’m so terribly sorry,’ the doctor gushed.
‘Can I ask a question?’ questioned Lois.
‘Of course,’ dialogued the doctor.
‘If we had brought her in sooner,’ she began, ‘is there anything we could have done,’ she continued, ‘to give her more time?’ she concluded, questioningly.
‘I... I’m afraid not,’ the doctor ejaculated.