Barbara Cohen lay on her deathbed at a hospice care facility.

"Barbara, he's arrived!" said a nurse.

A young adult male held her hand. "I'm here, my love."

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"Oh, Frank, I knew you'd come. I'm departing soon."

"Yes, I know." He kissed her forehead.

"But we'll see each other again, Frank."

"Of course, my love …" Franklin looked upward toward the sunset in the window.

"What's wrong, Frank?"

"Everything's fine, my love. We'll be together very soon."

A nurse passed by another in the hallway and whispered, "I wish they weren't programmed to lie like that. They have no souls."