"Good morning sleepy head," Patrick commented cheerfully, obviously trying to overcome his emotions concerning the previous night.

"Wha???" Rose replied in a croaky voice from under the sheets of her bed.

"You must've been tired. You slept through all the birds. I thought they could wake every sleeping soul for miles around."

"What is the time??"

"6:30am," he replied.

"6:30!!!!!" Rose yelled, and threw a pillow at him. Patrick ducked and it slammed against the wall. "You gets up at 6:30am??" Rose moaned.

"Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy wealthy and wise. Come on, it's a gorgeous day outside," Patrick walked to the window and drew the curtains aside. A wave of light spread across the room and Rose jumped up with a start.

"Can't anyone get any sleep around here?" Rose commented.

"Nup. Oh Rose, I have something I have been meaning to ask you --" Patrick began.

"Go ahead."

"Well, you see, I remembered you saying you were Mrs. Rose Dawson," Patrick looked to Rose, but she did not react, "Well, I was wondering where your husband was." Patrick finished and breathed in deeply to calm himself. he knew it may be personal, and she may not wish to discuss it, but it had been eating at the back of his mind for days. Where was her husband? Why had she just sailed halfway around the world? and Why had she been shivering in her sleep?

"I knew this would come one day. Where are you from? Who is your husband? Where is your husband? blah blah blah. You see, my husband, has recently," she paused, " passed away. Well, I have only been married for a short time, but what we had was, special. I haven't became used to being away from him yet." Rose turned away and stared thoughtfully out the window.

"How did he -- um?"

"Die? I don't want to talk about it. It brings back too many bad memories. Now please, leave me alone." Tears welled up in her eyes. Patrick walked out depressed, as Rose lay silently on her bed.