Susan crosses her arms in a very maternal "Abby Moesha Lockhart, this better be GOOD or you don't get dessert!" kind of way. Abby explains that he's the schizophrenic who knifed Carter and "killed a med student two years ago." Susan says, "Him?" She sounds more let down than shocked, as if she's disappointed in Sobriki for trying to whittle a sailboat out of Carter's back fat. Then she softens a bit. "He stabbed Carter?" she breathes. "What's he doing out?" Abby has already called the cops about it, but she's anxious to transfer him before Carter accidentally finds him there. Susan refuses, insisting that she should administer the head CT and determine his status before moving him anywhere else. "He stabbed two people in that room!" Abby shouts indignantly. Susan refuses to transfer a patient with a head wound, no matter what he did or who he is. Honestly, I did expect more concern for Carter to come from Susan, but ultimately, she's the only doctor who should be seeing Sobriki; she and Gallant are the only ones who could even be remotely impartial and fair in giving medical treatment to this man. Although it's a fluke that she got the case. I admire her for being a doctor first and a girlfriend second, but I do wish the girlfriend side of her hadn't come in quite such a distant second. Show some emotional layers, please, Susan. Abby is distracted by a phone call from the morgue, so she spits that Susan should at least move Sobriki to the suture room to best avoid Carter. "I got it," groans Susan. "And take his name off the board!" Abby bellows.

Cut to the morgue, where Abby has taken Douglas to let him say goodbye to his ashen and cold mother. How creepy. Douglas takes a slow step into the room, seeing his mother alone on a slab, covered in a thin cloth, a spotlight illuminating her utter deadness. "She looks like Snow White," he sighs, awed. That's kind of sad. So why did I laugh? Maybe because it's so fucking creepy to bring a child that young into a morgue containing his dead naked mother. He approaches gingerly. "Hi, Mom," he whispers. "I drew you a picture." Bending over, he whispers into her ear and then kisses her cheek. Abby fights tears as she watches the boy say his goodbyes.