Alison is in lawyer mode now, taking names and numbers and pretending to sympathize with the unwashed masses trapped in County General. She's brisk, efficient, and pissy. She even looks pointier than she did before. Unshaven Ruffian #46 asks Malik why he's absconding with all the oscillating fans, and Malik explains that it's because using them circulates the disease. Susan is on the phone screaming for some food to offset starvation and the subsequent onset of approximately one hundred foul moods. Chandler cheerfully informs her that he's instigating a class-action lawsuit for "false imprisonment with intentional affliction of emotional distress." Susan's like, "Afflict this, asshole," but the dulcet tones of a familiar voice distract her. She peers at the TV, confused. "History has shown that isolation of those with the disease and the vaccination of contacts can avert a widespread epidemic," the voice says. It's coming from the TV set, where a news anchor is chatting with a caller identified as Jerry. We know this by the black-and-white photo displayed in the top right corner of the screen, a picture that clearly came from Abraham Ben Rubi's high-school yearbook. Thanks, Abe's mom! Jerry tells the world that there's no need to panic, and that only those in extremely close contact with infected victims will need a vaccine. This rubs Susan the wrong way, because no one gave him the Leader Hat. She storms across to the ER phone booth, opens the door and yanks Jerry out. "Uh, I was just calling my mom," he lies lamely. "Uh, I love you, too, Mom!" But as he exits the booth, he and Malik swap delighted high-fives. Susan's suddenly all annoyed-but-charmed, and I can't figure out why we even needed to see this.

Abby and Carter start to seal Bree's shroud, but Robin protests when they begin to cover Bree's face. Sympathetically, Abby offers Robin a minute more to come to terms with the loss, because death is ugly and Bree is a Brawny kind of mess. Robin stares at Bree, then kisses her daughter's forehead and weeps. Craig reaches for her, but Robin stiffens and acts repelled, and Craig resigns himself to a bootyless night. He storms into Trauma Green for a good, hard sniffle. Carter follows, because he knows from good, hard sniffles. "My wife didn't want to come [to Africa]," Craig sobs. Carter reminds Craig that they've no idea why or when the kids fell ill. "It's my fault," Craig decides. Adam interrupts to ask if Bree was frightened when it happened. "She was asleep," Carter promises. Adam stares up betwixt the minefields of pus bombs and preciously asks, "Am I next?" Craig says no. Adam wants a promise. Carter fixes him with his best No, I Don't Just Say That To All The Dying Kids look and says, "I promise." Craig stares at his shoes. He knew the tassels would be his undoing.