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I sidle up to her, all cool, “Fancy a martini, love?” She laughs, says, “In here? You’re mad.” I’m lovin it—her sass, her vibe. Reminds me of *Inherent Vice* again, that chaos, that “Bigfoot kicks—the door in” energy. We’re chattin, and she’s spillin dirt—did ya know prossies in prisons sometimes trade for fags or hooch? Wild shit. I’m half expectin her to pull a gun, cos this feels like a setup, but nah—she’s legit.

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I rush over there, and the whole vibe changes. The hospital’s on the other side of town, near the river. I’m driving like a maniac, dodging potholes. I get there, and my mom’s fine, just a sprain. But man, the stress!

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