The Agent and Consultant

Favor

You ask the receptionist for any news on Neal. She's says he's still in surgery. It's been about 2 hours since everything happened. You pace around the hallway. Occasionally sitting down and checking your phone. Your attempts to reach Peter fail so you decide to call Diana. "Hey Diana," you say rather quietly. "Are you okay? I heard what happened. Is Neal alright?" she asks frantically. "I'm okay. I'm at the hospital. He's been in surgery for 2 hours and I've been trying to reach Peter but it isn't working. Can you do me a favor?", you ask her. "Okay but do yourself a favor and go get a cup a coffee or something cause ya sound miserable,". "I will. I need you to see if anyone was treated for a gun shot wound at all the hospitals in New York City. Thank you," you tell her. "Ok. No problem and go get that coffee," you laugh and hang up. You decide to go get some coffee.

You ask the receptionist about Neal. "He's in room B3, sweetheart," she says in her New York accent. "Thank you," you say to her with a warm smile. As you walk closer to the door, you see that it's open. You stand in front of the door to see Neal, a boy, and a woman who appeared to be his mom. The boy looked around 10-11 years old. He had brown curls resting on his head and a warm smile. The woman was pretty. She had medium length length, brown hair. She had a petite body which was dressed in a red blouse, black pencil skirt and little heels. The boy ran up to Neal, who had a smile on his face. The woman came up beside him and held Neal's hand. You felt confused and betrayal for a second. You stare in shock and slowly take steps back then deciding to leave.

You open your condo door. You close your eyes. As you look down, you see the fresh blood starting to dry up on the dark wood. A trail of blood was marked. You decide to take evidence. You take a couple samples of the wood and then of the bathroom. You grab a bucket, bleach, and a scrubber and immediately pour your energy into cleaning your blood filled home. Outside, you see the sun disappear and the bright NYC lights come to life.
You check the time which now reads 3:45. You look around to a spotless home. You crash on the couch not even thinking about your own filth.