The doctor met them in the hall outside the surgery room. He had a blank expression that he had perfected during his many years of telling people bad news. He never said the word incurable, but it was there in his eyes. He was someone who had long ago realized that hope was the wrong thing to look for in this world. You needed to be brave; you needed to face whatever might come next. He sat up at nights remembering people who were no longer living. He had a notebook filled with their last words to him.
