Bill stared at the police sergeant dumbly. What was happening? Had he snapped at last? Was this a dream? Was the constable really offering him a dorm room rather than putting him back in a cell? Why?

He vaguely registered the why, though the math escaped his muddled mind. Still, the way the man went out of his way made no sense to Bill.

At least he wouldn't have to go back to the cell, and he could feel himself slowly coming back to his senses. "Thank you..." he muttered, frowning down at the food. "You're too kind." He actually meant that. "Why?"