Foreman's resolution to act perfectly professional had fallen apart less than a minute after he'd found himself alone with Amber. Seeing her reminded him all over again of how she'd looked in other circumstances. The low, soft light in the Blue Velvet. The feel of her arms wrapped around his neck when they'd kissed--so lightly--for the first time. All of it compounded just how much of a mistake he'd made. He didn't date coworkers, and this was why. He got distracted. Which Amber reminded him, when she let his apology fall between them like a rock sinking out of sight in a pool. "Yeah. Fine," he said, pushing open the door.

Their patient was a John Doe. He had a low affect, staring at the two of them blankly as they stepped into the room, blinking at them as if he wasn't sure who they were--or why he was there. "I'm Dr. Foreman, and this is Dr. Volakis," Foreman said, checking the chart to see if there had been any recent changes in the man's condition. "We're going to be taking you for some tests, to see if we can find out why you stopped breathing."