Part 3

Alex stared at the pitiful face in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, complete with runny mascara and dark circles set under a head of windblown, half-wet hair looked back at her.

Pitiful.

Her mouth tasted sour and sticky, and all her chapstick had been licked off a long time ago while the police officers questioned her on the side of the highway. Finally, after it had started to rain, they went to a nearby diner to finish getting the statements.

Why did he have to be such a jerk?

The first cop, Hanson, had been alright. He seemed content with their answers and in a hurry to get back to the station. No doubt there was a lot of paperwork for getting run over by a car. But his partner Elkins was determined to prove that Alex had been drunk, or stoned, or that she tried to hit the woman deliberately.

"Have you consumed any alcohol in the last 24 hours Miss Turner? Are you certain about that? Have you been under the influence of any illegal substances?"

No officer, I wasn't drinking, I wasn't on anything, I was in my right mind and in control of the car. So, why don't you just let me go?

Finally, he did. She immediately went to the ladies room to cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, and she didn't want Paul to see it either. When she was done, she washed her face and looked in the mirror.

Oh, what Paul must think of me.

Grimacing at the mess of a person staring back at her, she hurriedly pulled her fingers through her hair and then tried splashing water on her face once more. The results were less than satisfying but she turned and left anyway. She wanted to get to the hospital.

Opening the door, she saw Paul leaning against the wall outside the restrooms, two cups of coffee and a doggy bag in his hands. He smiled at her and explained. "I thought you might want something to eat at the hospital. I know we just ate a couple of hours ago but we could be there for a while and the cafeteria is probably closed by now."

She nodded and accepted the coffee gratefully; it was getting close to 11 o'clock but it felt like she had been up for days. As they were walking out the door, something he said finally made it through the fog surrounding her brain.

"Wait--did you say we? Are you coming too?" She asked just as he was taking a sip of his coffee, and he tried to nod in response. He succeeded in spilling half his coffee on the ground in front of him, and all over his right shoe. Alex was horrified.

"Oh no--I'm so sorry. Just a second." She ran ahead to her car, and after a few seconds, emerged with some napkins. Trotting back, she bent down to wipe off his shoe as he protested. Of course, she ignored all that.

"No, your hands are full, and I'm the one that made you spill, and those are nice shoes, and--hey look, I'm done."

Job finished, they made it back to the car and she asked again. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home? I don't mean to make you feel like you have to stay with me. I mean, there's no reason for you to wait around at the hospital too." She laughed, hoping to lighten the mood, but it came out sadly anyway. "I'm sure you're ready for this night to be over anyway."

Paul shook his head immediately. "No way. I'm not letting you spend the night there all alone. Technically, you don't have to be there either. I don't think many people in your position would even care." He paused, then mumbled something further to himself that Alex couldn't quite catch. When he caught her curious gaze, his face reddened visibly.

She thought it might be better to leave that alone. "Thank you" she said quietly. They were silent on the trip to the hospital. Alex's mind was tired; it felt numb, like it had gone into hibernation. They walked up to the main entrance and Alex strode purposefully up to the sliding doors. They didn't open. She frowned in confusion and moved a little closer. Still no change. Paul cleared his throat and gestured toward a small sign to the left of the doors. THESE DOORS LOCKED BETWEEN 11PM AND 5 AM. PLEASE USE EMERGENCY ROOM ENTRANCE. Well, duh.

"We must've just missed it."

She nodded and blushed.

"I guess we probably need to go there anyway, right? I mean, I can't imagine them admitting her anywhere else." Alex couldn't argue with that logic and followed him around the corner to the emergency room entrance. When they got to the counter, to Alex's surprise, Paul took over. "Maggie Stromberg, please. Can we see her?" The nurse behind the desk, an older man with a shiny bald head, tapped a few keys on his computer.

"Are you two family?" Alex's eyes widened at Paul's nod. The nurse noticed, but Paul cut in quickly. "I am. We were out together when I heard." Frank didn't look convinced, but he tapped a few more keys, then paused. Alex was fascinated by the movement and reflection of the flourescent lighting on his bare scalp. "It looks like she just went into surgery--I'll go back and check on that for you. Take a seat." He handed them red and white nametags with the number 28 on them.

As he walked away towards double doors leading to the ER, Alex watched the light play on the back of his head, and stood entranced until Paul pretended to cough. "Oh, right. Where do you want to sit?"

There weren't really that many options. Three round table took up the left half of the room, and two of them were full. The other side, with slightly better cushioned furniture was totally packed with the exception of a brown loveseat that had some rather suspect stains. Paul surveyed the the room, then replied. "How about that table? The family on the couch there is going to leave soon I think. We can grab it when they do."

"Sounds good to me." As they sat down at the table, Alex remembered something. "How did you know her name....Maggie something?" Suddenly, fear shot through her. "Do you know her? Is that why you're here?"