"Oh, Barry," Martha said, her voiced laced with sadness. She knew that it was often a marked event in one's childhood that push the desire to become something in adulthood, but she would have never imagined such a sad event for Barry. She squeezed his arm, and looked up at him. "I'm so sorry," she said. "About your mother. I think that... well, I think that your mother would be so terribly proud of you. You made something good out of the tragedy, and are helping people. But I think, most importantly, she'd want you to be happy."
Martha felt slightly sheepish telling her story to Barry considering what he just revealed to her, but she wanted to be fair. There was no point in keeping her motivations a secret from him. "When I was around seven or eight my brother pushed me off a swing and I broke my arm," she said with a laugh. When I was in the ambulance I was fascinated with what the paramedics did to stabilize my injury, and all the procedures the doctors at the hospital did to verify what sort of fracture I had. The X-Rays," she said with a wide smile. "That was it. Seeing the pictures of the bones inside my body. That was amazing. I wanted to become a doctor after that."
She stopped walking for a moment to turn to look at Barry. "Did you ever find your answers," she asked as she looked up at him. "About your mother? Did you find out what happened to her?"