Between us hangs a mistake, outcome of a choice, a guess gone wrong. Outside her room, options weigh, reactions vie. I take a breath. Fever and nausea brought her, lab results equivocal, abdominal scan inconclusive. She failed to jump when I pressed her belly. White blood count suggested infection. Appendicitis hardly fit the pattern. She looked sick, in a characteristic way, I saw once when the thing had burst. I opened her and remember my squint. Appendix normal, I searched her entrails. Diverticulitis, colon infection, not needing surgery. Bad judgment? Malfeasance? Shall I say the truth, or spare the pain? I open the door.