Investigate

You turn the drawer over, shaking loose several wads of bills. "Yes! Score!" Medical crises forgotten for the moment, you gather up the bills...

"Ones? What the hell?" Disappointment rears its ugly head before you give yourself a shake, "There's still like $50 here, it's more than I usually have." Determined to see the good in the situation, you gather up the ones and jam them in your overstuffed purse. At least this night wasn't a total loss.

Now that you've had a little time to think, you grab a couple notebooks and a flash drive out of the detritus. Maybe you could find out what was in that syringe? Or maybe it would help the doctors if you passed out...or...You mentally slap yourself. "Get a hold of yourself Lara. This isn't the time or the place to freak out. Now get your shit together." You're impressed with how take-charge you sound, even if you are just talking to yourself. "Ok ... ok. What else can I do to find answers ... I need to figure this out ... to get control..." Yeah that sounded good. Control.

You'd never had much of it. Whether it was at home, at school, with friends, at college. You were always carried along by the people around you, never taking charge of your life. Well. Tonight was as good a time as any. You'd proven that when you stuck around to "scavenge" the wreckage for anything you could sell. You weren't going to be that timid little girl anymore. You were going to TAKE control of your life.

"Wow. Listen to me. Must have been some kind of hormone cocktail in that syringe." Your laugh peters off as you realize that's entirely possible and your current gung-ho attitude might just be a side effect. Whatever. You need to take whatever you can so you can fix whatever comes up ... and sell whatever you don't need.