He's alone in the room when the attendant brings in the mail. She's cheerful and efficient and vanishes quickly. Gabriel's just as glad, really; he's tired of pretending to feel better than he does.

Five seconds after he reads the letter, there's no hope of pretending. The high, buzzing whine of a medalarm cuts through the air as the shock knifes through him, sending his heart rate jolting upwards at the same time that his breathing turns into a series of ragged gasps.