Mrs. Harrison

Screech! The red car stopped suddenly and its occupants were thrown forward. The shock of the crash lingered and the young woman barely remembered her trip to the hospital. When she awoke many hours later, she was lying in a clean, white hospital room with her arm in a cast and stitches in her cheek.
The curtains were drawn back and she could see the sky of a late afternoon- a bright blue with cotton ball clouds. She turned her head and the room swam. When her vision cleared, she saw the clock read 4:06. 9 hours since the crash. Why had she been out? Why had she been out at 7 o’clock in the morning? She was never out that early. Oh… Damien. Of course… He was probably out partying… Or maybe he had a hangover. Well serve him right.
The door opened and a nurse entered. She wore a spotless dress and her soft, brown, cow eyes looked kindly at the poor figure on the bed.
The nurse said “Good afternoon dear. I’m Bertha.”
“B-Berea.”
The name rolled clumsily off her tongue.
“Wha-wha- What happened?”
“You were in a car crash dear.”
Really. She never would have guessed that.
“I mean what’s wrong with me?”
“You have a compound fracture of your humorous and you cut your face.”
“Oh. When can I go home?”
“Excuse me dear?”
How stupid was this woman?
“Home. When can I leave this hospital?”
“This isn’t a hospital dear. It’s the county jail. You killed a man last night, hit him with a car. You’re being charged with vehicular manslaughter. Possibly murder.”
“Who-who did I kill?”
“There wasn’t much left to identify him with, but his drivers license claimed he was Damien Harrison.”
No.
The nurse was speaking again.
“…will come see you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep, Mrs. Harrison.”