Now, let's back up a bit from last week's ending. I did tell you this was a first draft? Well I made a huge change in the plot and took off in a different direction. I think you'll like the changes.
She didn't hear anything else the woman said. "What? Rob is hurt? Where? What happened?" Tears welled in her eyes. No, this couldn't be happening. "What room? Where do I need to go?"
"Yes, yes of course just give me the address." She scribbled furiously, swiping at the tears. She closed out the call, looking around feeling immense guilt that she'd been masturbating while he was in critical condition. "Oh baby I'm so sorry," It came out barely more than a whisper. Quickly she dressed, and slipped on a pair of sandals. Mr. Prince was roughly tossed back into the box, the lid set on top. She grabbed a light sweater on her way out.