Ki sits in a janitor's closet, allowing red hot tears to slip from his eyelids. His hands are pressed into his eyes to try and stop the pain. His knees are pressed against his chest to settle his breathing.
He thinks of the story Francesca told him: the story of how she first found Lola, lying on the pavement outside of the local Panda Express, vomiting, breathing heavy.
Dr. Francesca Letterman rushed her into the hospital, thinking that this poor, homeless alcoholic could somehow be saved by the godly hands of several doctors.
Now she's dead.
And then he thinks, she didn't deserve that.