But all of those worries slowly drop away like petals of a dead flower when the medics roll the stretcher past us and I see the pale, lifeless face that’s lying on it, and my deadened heart begins to bloom back to life in my chest. In the blink of an eye, I’m standing from the bench, chasing them down the hall so I can get a better look. Not that I need one. I’d know that face anywhere. It’s her. My Stardust. My confirmation comes when the medic tries to push me away, but I continue toward her. “I just need to see her,” I’m telling them, over and over again. I just need to know what the fuck
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