He died. Staring at Lauren, his face a rictus of pain and suffering. Her hands were clean. Nobody would suspect the cute curly haired blond with the w...de smile in a face that looked innocent and young enough to belong to a girl still in high school. Everybody liked Lauren. Lauren was the good nurse always ready to pitch in on the worst cases that came into the ER. He’d been alive when she left him. But she liked to think she’d had something to do with his death. She liked to think that. Apparently I wasn't in New York anymore.Wondering where I was, I looked around for some mail or magazines that might have an address. I assumed Valerie lived in California. That would explain the palm trees. There was no mail, but I did see a TV. Ironically, the first thing on the screen when it warmed up was an episode of Ms. Bertinelli's old show, One day At A Time. A decade or two hadn't made her any less beautiful judging by the woman I had seen in the bathroom mirror. I flipped. More

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