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The Lapse of Max...

The detective questioning Max that evening in the hospital looked at him with no expression and said, "What the hell happened?"

Lying in the comfort of the hospital bed, with needles stuck in his arm, Max Cube flashed the detective a toothy smile; he wasn't sure if he was ever going to explain what the heck had happened. He wasn't even too sure himself of what was going on, but it felt like his brain was made from Swiss cheese.

Max opened his mouth to say something but then a woman entered the room and turned with a look of recognition. He knew her from somewhere but he didn't know where exactly.

Maggie entered the hospital room and paused when she saw the detective; she shot Max a wink and then turned toward the other man. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Well, for starters, who are you? And what is your connection to him?" the detective asked.

"I am Anne Wilson and I am his psychiatrist," Maggie said with cold severity. "He had left the ward that he was staying in 36 hours ago. I was hoping that he would show up sooner or later."