No one has signed Chen's cast. She is a sad, friendless ice queen. And because Pratt is a bad person, he actually comments on the lack of signatures, because I'm sure he's never encountered an uncomfortable situation that he didn't somehow worsen. "I haven't left the house in weeks," Chen says dully, admitting that the only reason she even left now is because an ambulance came for her father and she could easily hitch a ride. "He has pneumonia again. For the third time," she frowns. "And phlebitis, and a UTI." Pratt purrs that he would've picked Chen up if she'd called. In what? His Chrysler's parked in a riverbed. Maybe his insurance company put him in a nice Dodge Stratus-or-equivalent. Chen grins that, if he'll excuse her, it'll be a long time before she rides in car with him again. She laughs, he doesn't. Chen asks if he ever thinks about Elgin, and then the scene ends, so I guess the answer is no.
The rigs with Manic Mom's kids arrive. They put Kali in Trauma Yellow, where Pratt arrives to help. "Switching teams on us now, Lockhart?" he says, noticing her EMT garb. Abby does what all good doctors do: ignores the jackass. "He only used to hurt me," Manic Mom wails. "Why hurt my baaaabieeeeees?" Chuny escorts Mom out for the protection of their collective ear drums. Carter delivers the appalled "I hope they catch the bastard who did this to the little children" line just as Kali whimpers, "I'm scared." Abby joins her and yells to the medics that she'll go out with them on their next run. Mr. Offscreen EMT sighs irritatedly and points out that if she won't get credit for her ride-along if she doesn't actually...you know, ride along. Because she is polite, Abby totally ignores this. Pratt exposits that the sister in Trauma Green is stable, and we fade to black on a shot of Kali's face as Abby dons a lead apron to whip up a nice fresh batch of X-ray stew.
The committee of department heads has convened its meeting about Elizabeth's fate. It basically involves the members asking questions and then glaring at her while she answers, to remove any inconvenient "innocent until proven guilty" pretense. Elizabeth gives carefully vague answers to avoid admitting to anything -- for instance, when asked if the transplant team knew that both patients were HIV-positive, she responds that universal precautions are taken before every operation, regardless of HIV status. She's basically all, "I'm a hero," and they're like, "We're going to get sued." She counters that the donor had no family, so there's no one around to be upset that they gave away his innards. Anspaugh points out that what she did was illegal. Elizabeth neglects to point out that sometimes, it's just easier to agree to Carter so that he stops hanging around you with that expression of moral disappointment. "At the moment, yes, [it's illegal]," Elizabeth says. "But the bill changing all of that is sitting on the governor's desk as we speak." Unsigned, but hey, it's there, and apparently presence is now nine-tenths of the law. Elizabeth makes the sympathetic argument about how she saved a man who would never have had a chance, and she did it with a liver no one else could take. Anspaugh takes the hard line and points out that the recipient technically wasn't even their patient. Weaver just sits there looking so very disappointed in all this -- except we all know her too well, and are well aware that she salivates over disciplinary action, or at least the whiff of it. "You breached hospital policy, state, and federal law, which is grounds for dismissal and loss of license," she says with calculated gentleness, even though her insides must be rejoicing at the utterance of words like "breach" and "dismissal." Suddenly, Dr. Dubenko enters, to Elizabeth's alarm. "He's on the medical ethics committee," Anspaugh replies. "If you'd followed protocol and presented to them, you'd have known that." Oh, burn. Busted. Elizabeth gulps and scans the room nervously. Weaver won't even look at her, preferring to gaze down at her paper in a show of troubled resignation. This is the moment when Elizabeth realizes that, despite all the sex she had at the end of last season, she hadn't been truly screwed until now. "What's the next step, then?" she asks. "We'll make a decision," Weaver replies. "You'll be notified when we reach one." Elizabeth leaves with a heavy heart.