2019-07-05 - Making a Scene

"Lilith, my dear, you vs. tree. Tree won. No apologies, okay?" Sutton leans in and glances up from manually checking her pulse. "Do you have any allergies or are you on any medications?" Yes, she's going to be asked that several times. "I'm Sutton. I'll be the one mildly irritating you by prodding all of your bruises and asking you personal questions today." She smiles, and it's a genuine one. "We'll have you to the hospital shortly."

"I'm pretty sure your car's totaled, but it did its job and saved you from the tree's wrath." Sutton rubs Lilith's upper arm lightly. "You'll be okay, Lily." Oops, that first name has stuck. At least she didn't say Lilypad.

Not long later, they're arriving. This town is small.

"Okay." The response is automatic. Sutton does the thing that EMTs are supposed to do with the talking for focus and it is gradually doing the trick of keeping Lilith awake and somewhat streamlined as the ride progresses. She finally answers those damn questions too. Persistence is annoying and it gets in there, but that's damn well the point, "No. No." Then there's another more accepting 'okay' at the bit about her car being totaled because maybe it wasn't long for this world anyway. Or at least, her tone gives off that gist.

She's wearing denim cut off shorts and a black and white floral tanktop with black gladiator sandals so it's really not hard to keep and get visual tabs of bruising or shift most of her attire for the preliminary notes and cautionary, assessing surveys. One of her ankles is starting to swell and bruise too, the one that was hung up and smashed more fiercely when the front end mashed forward to close the space, but it's at an appropriate angle.

Annnnd, that weird glass in her thigh is uncomfortable looking, but Sutton's already told it nope, and why shouldn't she? Tempered glass is thick so it's less of a sticking slash into her leg and more like weird break angle + force gouged a hole in her leg meat and stuck there. Once it's out it might not be a big deal (other than ow) with removal and treatment, but given placement, you do what you do. It's just stupid that it's stuck there. The hospital handles that when they arrive and Sutton does the transfer and hangs to give the details as she knows them for further treatment and care. Michael probably isn't far behind with questions once the patient is lucid enough to try and answer.

Eventually, she's in a way to do that, not quite roomed yet, but in the ER after initial evaluation and glass removal.

In the background, Michael is hovering, hands on his belt in cop stance. Subtly rocking on his heels a bit and waiting for Lilith to be doing 'okay' before he goes over to check on her. Speaking to her doctor when they finally seem to park her in a hallway while they sort out where they're going to put her to recuperate, he finds out that she is stable and no further surgery will be necessary. That means he can talk to her, right?

Approaching Lilith, he gives her a nice smile and looks her over. "I hear you're doing well Ms. Winslow," he says as he walks to her bedside.

Sutton leans against the desk chatting with one of the nurses while she takes some time to do some paperwork. There's always some kind of paperwork when a hospital exchange is involved. She's just glad there are no handcuffs in this one. That always makes the narrative more complicated. And, truth be told, she's not really in a hurry to get back on the rig. She's not far away, ER being the ER and small. She watches Michael wander over toward Lilith's, and does what any self-respecting paramedic would do. She stands with her back to the room just where she can hear their conversation. It's really subtle, especially since her shirt reads PARAMEDIC across the back in huge white letters.

There's a wait on actual rooms with ready beds for some reason. Something about cleaning and staffing floor rotation and whatever other ridiculous reasons the universe can contrive. But she has a nice little curtain. It's kind of a makeshift room. Except it's not fully drawn closed, it's just really separating her from other bed and work areas, therefore Sutton can probably hear and see a lot of everything if so inclined.

Lilith's head is still swimming, but she's not feeling too much pain at the moment. Though maybe a ridiculous level of pretty down at the core, she's anything but for the moment. It's painful just to look at given mass bruising, brow lump and gash, hollowed eyes, bandagings, etc. There's no breaks, the glass hole gouge was managed and wrapped, she got all the x-rays and tests. And she's so tired, she wants to sleep so badly, but she's scared to sleep too. Because of that, she's been a convincing level of fine for assessment with sheer power through of will. She needs the distraction of police. She -wants- to be lucid so badly, so she's gripping lucidity by the balls.

Therefore, when Michael comes in with greeting, she puts on something like a small smile, "... okay, sure, we'll go with that." Wit is generally a good sign that someone's talking like themselves, isn't it? She probably doesn't really remember Michael from the scene as much as she might remember Sutton in splashes. He was at the peripheral, "Hi. Made a scene, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but we got you out and you're gonna be fine, don't worry about anything, I just need to ask you a few questions," Michael asks, pulling a chair over from the side of the room so that he can sit with her and talk. He has a very good bedside manner, and as always looks so neatly pressed that despite the fact that he hasn't been off-shift since the accident earlier, he overall gives the impression that he's practically just started his shift. Somewhat the opposite of Lilith. "Do you think you feel up to answering some questions? I can wait here if you'd like to rest a bit more," he adds and pats the arm of the chair a few times.

"Thanks for that. I can give them a go. If I start looking off, we'll just try again later, mm? But it's just... really not hard to explain, either. So I think it's good." Lilith tells Michael in response, starting to shift with shrug before even that little trigger reminds her pain meds can only do so much in the waking state. Her teeth bare with tiny wince before she clarifies, "I mean, yes. I feel competent. If you need me to say that directly for.. legal reasons or something."

Then she finally looks at the guy dead on and blinks a couple of muddled times, huff of partial laughter from the throat sounding, "Jesus. If all cops look like you, I need to wreck my car more often. Do you guys do a calendar or something?" Look, pain meds make people blurty. But maybe she's just like that, who knows.

"Hey, thanks, Henry," Sutton says to a passing male nurse who hands her off half a bag of mini peanut butter cups because he says, every time he sees her, it doesn't go directly to his ass if he shares his snacks. So she stands there, back to the curtain, listening in while Michael does his preliminary interview. Eating peanut butter cups. She has about five in her mouth when she decides to turn around and make her way to the curtain's gap so she doesn't have to strain to hear. Fire's radio is far quieter than the PDs. Welp, there goes a snort at the calendar comment revealing her clever loitering.

"Excellent, you just let me know if you need anything, ice chips or something, okay?" Michael is saying in that same even sort of voice that indicates a total sincerity in trying to make this comfortable. It also speaks to the fact that this is small-town and despite the recent murder, for the most part, there isn't much for him to be doing. He isn't in a rush to get a statement or to get back out on the mean streets. He can loiter and talk with pretty damsels in distress. "No, nothing legal to worry about," he mentions. Not to say she couldn't say something to make problems, but nothing so far.

The question about him being in a calendar earns her another smile and he shifts a bit in his chair to look over his shoulder at where Sutton is loitering awkwardly.

"No, no calendar, maybe something to keep in mind around Christmas?" he suggest with a half-smile. "So, what do you do for a living, Ms. Winslow?"

Ice chips, no, peanut butter cups in her time of emotional need? Yes. It's not like she has a good hug incoming any time soon. When Lilith is done staring at Michael with her blurt out, she advises, "You should. Unless you're just an anomaly, I don't remember that being a thing growing up here." Then her eyes cast with drift to Sutton as if expecting to be prodded again, but she notices this lady has candy. The EMT being around isn't clamming her up or anything, instead she just kind of pitifully extends a hand in small want gesture at Sutton's bag from a distance.

She answers the question with natural ease while doing that, then puts her hand back to rest because effort, eyes eventually coming back with explanation, "My family has had the local Pawn Shop for a few generations. My father couldn't do it anymore, so I came back and run things now. I'm a loan and pawn broker. But if you want to be thorough, I guess I'm a trained jewelry assessor and a good hand at refurbishing too. Makes me sound better than a loan wrangler with a junk store." There's a bit of a dry and wry tone to the latter bit that she tinges with smile.

Sutton is definitely loitering poorly, but she doesn't seem quite awkward about it. She has chocolate pb cups, and that soothes most any situation. She lifts her hand out of the bag of candies and waves when Michael glances over his shoulder. She makes a face once he turns back to Lilith, which surely the woman might catch. Cops, EMS, and Fire all have that charming wit around each other. Like a bunch of moderately inebriated adult siblings with weapons and drugs. She lifts the bag of peanut butter cups in silent offer to Lilith, pointing to the label. Don't mind her, she's just offering snacks to patients. It's cool. She wanders right on in, like she can feel the choco-PB necessity. She wasn't even in the accident and she's hoovering through the sweets. She tips the bag to Lilith.

"There are a couple of very choice bodies on the blue side of the building," the paramedic offers, helpfully. "Ditto the red. It's a good time to be alive." And in service in Gray Harbor. "O'Malley here is very into fitness. Tell me, Lily, how do you feel about hiking?" She says that with an utterly straight face and doesn't so much as glance at Michael when she says it.

"Sutton, am I an anomaly?" Michael asks, not sure what he'd consider the rest of his fellow first responders. Surely between a few of them they were certainly at least worthy of taking their shirts off, right? She practically answers without his having asked, and he nods his head at that. He does look at her pointedly when she mentions hiking, but also, doesn't say anything.

A look to Lilith then and he nods his head at her explanation about the Pawn Broker.

"And where were you headed this evening?" he asks, making conversation still, writing occasionally in his little notebook when he hears some pertinent fact, but he doesn't seem to be doing it too intensely, just covering some bases.

Speaking to his dedication to fitness, he doesn't even really look at the candy for more than a moment, but at least he doesn't start talking about how it's unhealthy to give to a recent trauma patient. Thank heavens.

Lilith practically breathes out her appreciation to Sutton with the bag being brought over and tipped with offer. She gets her chocolate bounty and thinks about taking two before dropping one of them back and settling with one. Honestly, it's probably wise with everything upside down because she's not sure she's supposed to be eating and throwing up in front of hot cop might be a thing if she pushes it. Sigh. She doesn't make the noise, but it's written there with a moment of resignation as she looks down at the foil to pick with unwrap after a murmur of 'thanks' at Sutton.

She gets some humored reprieve on look up, though, when the EMT pipes in with the tally of hot taxpayer forces at work and her brows lift as if impressed, "Yeah, calendar. Combine the forces. Make it happen." She maybe doesn't catch on to what the other woman may be digging or ribbing with with the bits about Michael's interests and question about hiking. She's lucid, sure, but she's still pain meds and head trauma so she just kind of answers the question, "I like to run sometimes, but I guess I've never gotten to hike much to know." The lady gave her candy, she answers the damn question. Then her lips twitch when she finally catches on, but it's a bare tick.

Michael's next official question, though, it makes her drop her head back against the pillows to stare with exasperation at the ceiling when she gets the candy free to pop in mouth after speaking. She'd laugh if she could muster it, because her answer? "I was on my way to the hospital. As a visitor, not a check in. My father is currently in hospital care." The battered brunette lets him pace the questions instead of going on to keep things easy. Also she has candy to chew.

"I couldn't tell you, Mike." Sutton glances over finally, giving him the once over. "I haven't seen you naked, love." She says that with a dead straight face. She pops a peanut butter cup into her mouth. She thinks about it for a moment, aaaalmost says something else, then closes her mouth. She turns her hazel eyes back to Lilith and tips her head to Michael, a smile on her lips. "We should consider a charity calendar." She's coming around to this idea. She smiles as Lil answers her, and mustn't have been ribbing the cop too hard, because she doesn't look at him after that answer.

"Have as many as you want, love. You had a shitty day." She stands there with the bag of sweets. Probably, like the nurse, Sutton thinks if she shares, the sweets will not go directly to her ass. It's a logic chain, ok. "If you need anything, ask Mike here, or hit your little call button. If the nurse with the beautiful eyelashes answers, you tell him Sutton says treat you right."

"Well that's a coincidence." She really is having a shitty day. Sutton tucks the leftovers from the bag of PB cups over on the rolling table, scooting it closer to Lilith should she decide to take more. One for each time she needs a moment to consider one of the cop's questions, perhaps. "Would you like someone to let him know you'll be... late?"

The answer about hiking is answered with a sort of expressionless nod, as if Michael is putting on his best poker face, probably because Sutton is there. He can only humor her so much, or she gets to thinking she's a comedienne. The calendar comment from Lilith however, earns her further good humor at least, and he smiles a bit more. "Sure, if you can talk the guys into it, maybe help us find some sponsors or help sell them? We can talk more about it later," he suggests, though where, when or how she should contact him 'later' is sort of left to the imagination. Whether that's intentional or just mean to be referring to after the interview, is entirely left to the listener's imagination.

Back to business: "On your way here? Well, you got the express trip at least. How is your father doing?" he asks. He glances over at the word from Sutton.

Lilith downright sniffs and then snorts small with humor while listening to and then watching Sutton, then her eyes flash with gratitude when the candy backup plan is placed nearby. All her dry casual and rightful exasperation and forward nature kind of softens in that moment, but then it's replaced by a tick of frown when things shift to her father. She makes a noise in her throat at the offer, "He's not waiting on me, he's probably hoping to avoid me coming back to nag him and ruin his morphine high, so there's no real need."

After breathing out a soft sigh to herself, she looks back at Michael, "He's recovering and he'll be himself in no time, I'm sure. Unfortunately. But we get what we get when it comes to family, don't we." She's not really being nasty about it, it's just another resignation thing. Hank Winslow is her father and he's the Pourhouse regular, the drunk with master (terrible) plans, the guy the firemen had to pull out of a tree because he chased a cat to start a pet shop with strays. Profit, right? Yeah. Locals might have a good idea of who her dad is. She can tell this guy isn't local, there's no use really getting into it. But he might figure that out later if he's nosy.

Sutton stays quiet, as Michael's swapped to business questions. She knows enough to about popo procedure to recognize it in action, even if he sounds conversational. She licks a bit of melty chocolate off her thumb, then takes a moment to run her tongue over her teeth to be sure she's not smiling with chocolate residue. Also if the EMT waiting for her back in the rig figures out she's been standing here eating chocolate and not doing paperwork, she might have to listen to some bellyaching. "We'll talk them into it by telling them how very pretty they are." That usually works.

"No notifications from me then," she smiles easily. No choco-teeth. She's not going to make any notifications where notifications are unnecessary. "Family does do a number on us, doesn't it?" She slides her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants, thumbs hooked just over her studded belt, a belt that doesn't exactly conform to uniform standards. She thinks for a moment. If Hank's been up a tree in the last six weeks, she probably dispatched that rescue. She loves sending cops on treed kitten runs. Treed kitten lovers are the ultimate.

She has been to the bar several times, and hit on by more than one of the regulars. Never got their names, though. "Morphine highs are a terrible thing to waste."

"Family is family, and whatever he might be, he's that, and I'm glad on your behalf that he's recovering. Do you need some uh, pamphlets for recovery programs?" Michael agrees in a roundabout way but doesn't really do too much to probe her about the grumblings about her father, just offers a hand if she needs it. He can follow up with her later, perhaps, but for now, he focuses on getting through the questions.

"So, you were on your way here and what happened?" he asks as follow up, glancing over once or twice at Sutton. "Sutton, can you check on her room?" he asks with a smile.

"Thanks for the offer, though." Lilith tacks on to Sutton with a little careful nod of her head because moving just isn't her favorite thing right now. She also looks completely supportive about this continued calendar subjects and tactics to get it there. She's a local business, and she's... really good at moving things in and out of the shop. It's also something lighter to focus on like reprieves in the middle of what actually happened and where she has ended up.

Lilith looks at Michael like he's grown a second head when he offers her pamphlets, then she can't help it. She breaks into a smile and laugh that briefly lights her like sunshine through the battering and fatigue, because oh dear, that was cute, especially to someone that grew up the way she did. Unfortunately, her bottom lip is kind of split and busted and that split has agitated in her momentary delight, bringing that smile to quick close with hiss touch. Then she drops her hand. The blood starts to unwittingly bead up slowly while she talks after the small reflex check, "It was all real fast. I've had a bad run of things, obviously, and I was just worn out and frustrated and done. So my reflexes... I don't know. I remember noting I was almost here..." A pause, "There was a dog in the road where it bends. I didn't see. My phone went off with a text. I picked it up and saw the dog. I braked, but..."

Her head shakes a little here and she has to really think because that's apparently where reflexes in whatever state took over, "It wasn't enough and I'd cry if I ran over a dog. I swerved, but... there was a car so I jerked... then I don't know."

Sutton glances over at Michael when he offers pamphlets. "You're adorable." That's all she says on that, but she is definitely smiling now. "Pamphlets." Cops, man. Her radio crackles and she turns it down a bit, but listens. There's a moment before she nods, checks her watch, then she reaches over and lightly touches Lil's ankle under the blanket. "You need anything, like a phone number, call the Firehouse and ask for Sutton. Missing a dog gets you major points in my book. I'll check up if you're still here when I come off shift. Good luck with this one." She nods to Mike. "Glad you're okay, Lily." She smiles warmly. "Evening, friends." She pops Michael in the shoulder on the way out, totally rolling wingman.

Yes, they let her have the authority to dispense drugs to those in medical emergencies. Yes, she's like this all the time.

Whether he does it on purpose, or genuinely missed it, when Lilith mentions the text she'd been in the process of looking at, he coughs into his fist and says, "So you swerved to avoid a dog, and oh no, there's a tree. We pull you out, get you here, now it's achey time, that about the sum of it?" he clarifies, deliberately leaving out the bit that'll cause her no end of headaches. Whether he'd do her the same favor if she'd hit someone else or caused anyone else any problems, is hard to say, but he's inclined to overlook the stupid admission for the moment, if she doesn't repeat it.

He doesn't seem to realize that pamphlets are 'cute' but he nods a bit to both of them and again to Sutton when she starts to make to leave. "See you Doc."

Atttention back on Lilith, he gets up and says, "I'll be right back, let's get you in a room, and some ice, maybe someone can look at your lip there," and he edges out of the temp area slowly.

"Pretty much. I honestly couldn't tell you the state of my brakes response or anything at the time, it's not really what ticks when... I just really really really didn't want to kill a dog today. And because I am me, that naturally ended with uh. Fire. So that's..." Lilith takes a time to catch on to what Michael has omitted in clarifying call back after waving a grateful hand after Sutton. (If she caught the ol' wingman slug, she plays it off.) But when she does catch on to what the cop has omitted, everything kind of slows down and she curses herself and insurance companies and potential ticket fines, but mostly herself. She's generally not an idiot and extenuating stress, pain, and trauma circumstances really are a shit excuse, "I mean, yeah, that's exactly it."

She looks at the candy, then Michael rising with a tinge of smile in her eyes this time, instead of her lips because ugh. She doesn't -say- thanks, but it's there enough, gracefully subtle, then she makes an easy noise to his planning, wiping her lip as afterthought. Then she notices the blood and sighs. Punished for a smile. Figures.

Snapping the whip that a man with a gun can whip, the whip of authority, Michael comes back about five minutes later and walks alongside the gurney as Lilith is wheeled to a private room. Perhaps to be relocated later to one with her father, if she's unlucky. Which seems likely. He hands her a small cup filled with ice as they walk, and he waits until they get to their destination and the nurse has her all plugged in again before he settles into a seat again.

"Okay, so where were we?" he asks as he settles in and crosses one leg over the other. Pausing for the first time in his asking to check in about something over his radio which is only occasionally sounding off as patrolmen report car stops and the like. "I saw the car was a rental, is that right?" he asks.

Lilith seems a little impressed with how quickly Michael gets things moving quite literally, herself as one of those things. She's used to doing things for herself and while she might have eventually started to bitch about her waiting status if things got loud, honestly, the woman has adopted a 'this is fine' demeanor at this point because she probably has to. Pick your battles and all that jazz, she was just pulled out of a smoking vehicle playing third base makeout with a tree trunk.

She takes the ice and lets some of it melt to sate, then uses another once she's settled to rub back and forth over her busted bottom lip. It's done bleeding but she's vaguely worried all of a sudden what she might look like during that ride for whatever reason. She's taking steps for swelling. Of course, there's far bigger worries. Probably not the fact she's driving a rental, though, and she makes a noise, "Thank you. And yeah, it's a long term lease. I just moved back in spring and needed something immediately and I... really can't pick a car, nor can I be bothered to go to a lot for some guy to try and price gouge me because I'm a lady. Trust me, that's still a thing. Mechanics, too." A sniff, "Guess it's good I didn't go and get one and get attached."

"Well, I'm not a mechanic or anything, but if you need help with getting gouged, I'd be happy to loiter on a lot with you for a bit one day, just do your research on like the car reports. One of my cousins swears by his Mazda 3," Michael suggests without filling in that he'd be willing to do the job, just sort of leaving that implied. Hearing the rest of the story, he nods his head and writes a few more words down. He'd been curious about the rental but not too curious, it was just a passing sort of wondering. "Okay, and was there anything in the car?" he asks, tapping the pen on the edge of the notepad. "Hang in there."

Lilith blinks once. She can only imagine what she looks like, what this seems like with severity, what a disaster she sounds. Did he just... she honestly looks like she heard Michael wrong there for a beat while letting the ice drip in her fingertips, then she goes back to balming wound with that ice. It's a pretty masterful way to use the tools at her disposal to help conceal a smile. Also smiles hurt right now. It helps.

"I will be needing a car sooner than later and probably shouldn't use the excuse of avoidance anymore since I don't plan on running off any time soon." God, she should, and there's a pause where that sinks in and then rebounds, "So using an official looking guy to get a good price sounds like some pretty keen planning."

Then Lilith draws in a breath and focuses on the question, lashes narrowing a smidge with thought, "No. My bag and wallet and phone. Change, a coffee to-go cup, don't think I had any packages in it. Sometimes I do, because my sales aren't all local, sometimes I do swaps or sales with other pawns online through a community and we have a website. But I've got the UPS delivery wrangled into taking things for me here and there, so I do it less lately and haven't recently. Don't think I left anything in the car. So no."

"I wouldn't be there in an official capacity, just to be clear, so no uniform, well, not unless I just got off work," Michael mentions, not wanting her to think he plans to try to get her a better deal, just to be there so that they don't try to scam her. That said, he smiles a little and nods his head when she seems to accept and pats around in his pockets a few times. Pulling out his official card, he uses that pen of his to write his phone number on the back. For when she has her phone and is able to take the information down.

"Okay, well, if you think of anything, just let your insurance company know," he adds. "I didn't see any packages myself, but I was more concerned with getting you out of the car and keeping the fire under control than with looking for your stuff," he admits.

"Do you have any questions for me?" he asks.

"I... didn't realize you did all that." The brunette pauses, then goes on, "Oh, yeah, no uniform, just uh. Man capacity. Some guys just have that way around other guys like that puts off a buzz like a mosquito lamp. Don't have to say a thing. I feel like you have the part where you stand there and make someone consider whether or not trying to pull some wool is worth the effort. Not because you're not personable, mind, just... mm." Lilith clarifies to Michael with a tiny noise that's partial breathed laughter, rambling a touch until it stops.

The ice she's manipulated over her lip has melted to gone, fingertips flicking off with gesture opposite the side of the bed at him with the barest fling of droplets. She totally misses and wonders in the same moment with vague warmth of humor instead of dry-branded as seems more common, "I do. What's your first name?" Sutton called him Mike at one point but honestly she's not good at following and remembering details like that at the moment.

"It's mostly just being taller than average and looking like I work out a lot, because I do, and being a Marine," Mike mentions when she starts talking about the effect he can throw out at other guys. "And being an officer," he adds as an afterthought, though honestly, his vibe, to his thinking, is more Marine than Cop at this point, he hasn't learned that dead stare with just the right attitude, not like some of the old timers.

"Michael, or Mike, I suppose," he answers. "And you're Lilith," he confirms that he does in fact know her name, and doesn't plan to just keep calling her Ms. Winslow.

"Okay. I think maybe you look like a Michael. Works out." Lilith says to Michael with semblance smile at her features as a whole in alternative of nice to meet you. It feels stupid to say to someone that dragged out out of a smoking vehicle that subsequently caught fire after the fact. Then she starts to flag some, holding his card to look at the number before laying her head against the pillows with ease back, "Thanks for... making the questions part relatively painless. And the interference you ran on my stuck position, and... for the car lot."

The woman's lashes drag into a few slow motion blinks and she squirms some with cautious settling before meeting the man's eyes to give another (careful 'cause she just iced her mouth) smile. But she doesn't need her lips so much, it's in the blue of her eyes which... are struggling to stay open. Apparently having the affair done flipped a switch, easing where she was gripping to consciousness by will, not bodily might. No more need to fight, pleasant as company might well be, "Have fun with paperwork. I'm just going to stay here a bit." Duh.

While Lilith is asleep, a meddling nurse at desk duty notices father and daughter are both admitted patients in the same wing and she thinks it would be NICE for them to get to room together for comfort and company. So when she wakes up again, it's to Hank pissing and moaning about wanting more morphine, jello and a bedpan and when the response isn't immediate, he starts asking HER for those things. Seriously. That's how she wakes up. To Hank howling for Lily Rose.

Also at some point she realizes she just might have accepted a psuedo date with a cop and doesn't have the numbers to call anyone who might be wondering why her phone is broken to off-mode and where she is. They were saved in her phone. But she is so tired right now.

It also runs in the papers the next day due to fire and location. How embarrassing and par for the course.