The drive to the hospital took several eternities, it seems. In reality, it was only several minutes. But now they have arrived; they cannot help but wonder if they are prepared for whatever news awaits beyond those doors. The hands of your sister and your mother are still gripping to each other as they both take a giant breath and walk through the doors. Your mother's head is on a swivel, scanning the long corridor for a sign of your father. After another several eternities, she sees a man with his head between his legs, his body racked with the most violent sobbing. It takes a moment for your mother to realize this man is your father. Still attached to your sister, she moves to him. He stops crying for a split second when he feels his wife's hand on his shoulder. He can only look into her eyes, rimmed with smudged makeup and redness from that steady stream of tears before beginning to sob again and whispering the words, "We lost her. We lost our baby girl." And at the moment he says those words, two other worlds collapse and their shattered remains join his on the ground.