NYU Hospital, 2 hours later
Marge Cragen sat in a private room next to Olivia's bed, watching as she finally fell asleep. It had taken some gentle persuasion, supportive hugs, and hand squeezes to get her through a number of activities: admitting procedures, a physical exam, precautionary x rays, treatment for minor cuts and contusions, and finally a "bedtime snack" in her room. But though she had been calm and cooperative all evening, her last words before dozing haunted Marge: "Wake me when they tell you about Mother."
She's kept asking about her mother, thought Marge as she stood to stretch, and I've been able to put her off. But what happens tomorrow? And where will she go? The only reason I'm here now is because the officers convinced the admitting nurse that it would be easier on Olivia if someone she trusted stay with her until family arrive. But it's been a couple of hours, and no one has even been mentioned…
Just then, Don entered silently. His face was visibly troubled as he crossed the room. Embracing her, he whispered, "Let's go talk out in the hall."
"So, how bad is it?" Marge asked once they were outside.
He sighed. "She was pronounced dead at the scene
"I figured as much." Her eyes welled sympathetically as she remembered Olivia's words.
Don continued, "From what we've gathered so far, she had some drinks at a bar and grill and couldn't handle the steps. When she fell, she took her daughter with her."
Marge interjected, "During the ride here Olivia did say that she tried to say stop herself and her mother, which must account for some of those scrapes on her hands."
Don nodded. "Alcohol does impair one's mobility, among other things."
"Then what happens now? Have you located her relatives? Although she did mention not knowing where her father is, so I guess that's a problem." Marge gave a sad glance at the closed door.
Don raised his eyebrows. "She doesn't know her father's whereabouts, huh? Well, that certainly helps narrow the list."
"What do you mean?" Marge frowned.
"Social services wants to release her to a relative when she is discharged tomorrow morning. Professor Benson---her mother---had an emergency contact, a girlfriend who was taken out of her own apartment building this evening after passing out drunk in the lobby. So we're canvassing the neighbors and searching the Benson apartment for anything with a relative's name on it. So far that's turned up is the names of a few colleagues, who don't know of any family. Marge, that kid is going to be in no emotional shape for foster care."
"Oh, Donnie," said Marge, sighing, "if only we could take her. I still have a few days off, and I can always take some extra time…"
"I know, that's another reason I came to find you," Don said, brightening somewhat. "You see, you impressed a lot of people here with how you interacted with Olivia. The hospital social worker is willing to recommend an exception and allow us to become her temporary guardians if no relativess can be located by tomorrow."
"But---don't they have to check our home, our backgrounds…"
"They've already called the numbers I gave them. All that remains is for the house to be inspected, which can be done tonight. So, if you're willing…"
Marge gave her assent with a kiss. "Now go home and show that social worker what good job I did this afternoon."
Don kissed her again before departing.
Returning to the room, Marge walked to Olivia's bedside. Tenderly she caressed her cheek.
"I'm keeping my promise. I'm not going to leave you. I'll be here as long as I'm needed."