The man lay motionless in the hospital bed, but his eyes were wide open. There was an expression of intense concentration on his bruised and burnt face as he strained to listen to the whispered conversation on the other side of the door. He mentally cursed the radio that was playing softly in the corner. Suddenly, the murmurs ceased, and the plywood door flew open.

A large and rather red-faced woman bustled into the room, followed by a wiry, bespectacled young man holding a clipboard. They both looked ominously serious.

"I see you're awake," said the woman matter-of-factly. The man in the bed nodded, wincing slightly from the movement. His entire body was aching and stinging simultaneously, as though he had been dropped from a great height into a vat of acid.

"Luckily, it looks as though the burns you sustained are not too serious. There may be a little scarring," the woman said, attempting a smile. The injured man thought it looked more like a grimace.

"Your head wound is healing well. And your other injuries are nothing more than a little bruising," the bespectacled man said. The patient would have laughed out loud it hadn't been for the pain.

"You'll be out of here in a few days," the woman added, once again baring her teeth in what was supposed a warm and comforting smile.

The pair made to leave, obviously under the impression that their job was done.

"Wait..." the man on the bed croaked. He almost jumped at the sound of his own voice; if he hadn't known he had spoken, he would have sworn that it was somebody else.

"Yes?" asked the bespectacled man, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

"Have you heard anything...about her?" the burnt man deliberately stared at the ceiling as he spoke.

The large woman and wiry man glanced at each other. They had secretly hoped that somebody else had told their patient. Neither wanted to be the bearer of bad news, despite the fact that the medical profession often required it.

"Nothing," the woman replied, her voice softer and less business-like.

The patient closed his eyes, blocking out the overwhelming and suffocating whiteness of the room. In his heart of hearts, he already knew that she was dead.