
Claire/Karen, Why are you/we whispering?
Claire woke up to someone pounding on her front door. She reached blindly for her phone to check the time, groaning when it said 4:23am. "Coming, I'm coming!" she yelled, wrapping herself up in her robe. More careful than she would have been a few months ago, Claire looked through the peephole before opening the door for Matt's blonde secretary. "Can I help you?"
The woman--Karen, Claire remembered, hazily--shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Can I come in?"
Claire narrowed her eyes, but stepped back to let her pass. "Why are you whispering?"
"You're Matt's friend, right? The nurse?" Her hands fluttered nervously, glancing around Claire's darkened apartment. "You help him out when he… well, you help him out, right?"
Claire nodded slowly, watching the way Karen's eyes wouldn't quite meet hers. "Yeah," she said. "Is he hurt?"
"Not--not exactly," Karen admitted. "It's not Matt."
With a deep sigh, Claire turned back toward her bedroom. "Let me get dressed."