Kris peeled open her eyelids. She looked up at something white. It was the celing. She was inside some sort of vehicle. Why wasn't she in the convertible with Junior, listening to the radio and thinking about the new life they were heading towards?

"The girl is waking up."

Kris looked around. There were two men standing over her in blue suits with masks on.

"We don't want her to wake up, put her back under," said one of them.

"Roger that," said the other one. He reached behind Kris's head and did something. Moments later, she was out like a light.

Kris opened her eyes again. Same view, same voices. Everything was blurry. Only bits and pieces of what was going on made any sense to her.

"Her...concussion...not too serious...left arm...possibly broken...maybe internal bleeding..."

"Good...keep...stable...look...him...not...good..."

"Too bad...airbag...driver's seat...didn't..."

"Look...awake...again...sedatives...NOW..."

The next time Kris woke up, she was someplace different entirely. The basic elements were the same: everything white, her laying down, strange people all around her talking about strange things.

"So tragic. That beautiful silver car driven right off a bridge."

"At least it landed right side up," said a mournful voice. "I hate to think how bad off the people inside would be if it hadn't been. Especially with it being a convertible."

Hey, thought Kris. These people are talking about a car just like Junior's.

"Hey, do you know if the person who that girl from the car had listed as her emergency contact is related to her or not?"

"No, not related to her. But she's had him listed for four years already, so I'll bet that they're really good friends."

"Who does her boyfriend have listed as his emergency contact?"

"His twenty-year-old sister. Nobody else."

"Oh, lord. My heart breaks for whoever has to make that phone call."

What's going on? thought Kris. Whatever it was, she felt like crying for whatever couple these two people were talking about. Thank goodness that nothing that that would ever happen to her and Junior.

"Actually, I think I'll make that call. What are the names of the people in the car?"

"Kenneth Davis Junior and Kristine Furillo."

Kris's eyes flew open in an instant. She was suddenly able to see the faces of the two doctors talking clearly. She didn't recognize either of them.

"What? That boy...he was Ken Davis's son?" said one of the nurses incredulously. "How exactly was that determined?

"We found his name on the driver's license in his wallet," said the other nurse. "And get this-we found the girl's name on her jockey's license in the car."

Jockey's license? Huh? Suddenly, Kris felt better. She didn't have a jockeys' license right now, therefore, there was no way that these people could possibly be talking about her. That explaination made a helluva lot more sense than the stuff that they were saying right now. Junior's car wasn't destroyed. He and Kris were on their way to go get married.

Suddenly, one of the nurse's faces looked shocked. "Oh! She's awake! I'm sorry, Ms. Furillo. Let's get you into your own recovery room." Then she turned to the other nurse. "Why don't you call Ken Davis instead of that poor girl? I'm sure his number can't be that hard to find."

"You're right," said the other nurse. "Good idea. Now quickly...go get her into her room. And whatever you do...don't let her find out what happened. Yet."