Quality of Life

ISLA physician, heal thyself It was dark, and quiet, and patients were... y'know. Sleeping. Until now, of course, when a familiar voice began to yell out her name. Usually it was a sign that something had gone terribly awry, but Sam sounded more animated than she thought she had ever heard him before, and excited even. Still, Isla moved as though it was an emergency, stepping into the waiting room where he had been looking for her; if she'd still had breath she might have been out of it. "Samuel? My... my letter? What do you mean?" she asked, sounding puzzled. In truth she had been expecting, almost, to see him very soon, based on what Remi had said. But she hadn't expected quite this reaction. "Is everything alright? What can I do for you?"