Sure enough, there's Adele, being moved onto the bed in a trauma room. As Mark starts quietly ordering various tests and pieces of equipment, Napolitano stands at the end of Adele's bed and asks whether she got a good look at the man who shot her. Adele says that he looked familiar: "He said something about his son." Mark jumps to a (fine -- fairly reasonable) conclusion and tells her, "We put his son Ben into protective custody last week." "Oh my god," murmurs Adele. Mark establishes that Adele can't feel her legs. Suddenly, Weaver and Romano are at Adele's bedside. Mark tells Weaver about the spinal-cord injury. Napolitano describes Mr. Fossen, and Adele says that sounds like the man who shot her. Romano asks whether she has any pain in her belly; she doesn't. Weaver guesses that Adele may have a pneumothorax. Mark says her lungs sound fine. Weaver and Romano offer other suggestions as to what might be ailing Adele. The patient herself pipes up to muse, "How did he know where I lived?" This pulls Weaver up short: "What?" Adele asks again how Mr. Fossen could have found her, adding, "I only saw him at the hospital." Romano blames the "damn internet" for allowing crazy psychopaths to find just about anything. (True -- kids, if you haven't already, you should do a search for your name and make sure those online phone books don't list your home address.) Weaver and Mark exchange a tense look, and Mark rather calmly asks Napolitano to send someone to Valium Villa. Napolitano's all, "Don't flatter yourself, Baldo." Mark repeats the request, and tells Napolitano his address as he lunges for the phone and dials the number. Napolitano takes off.

Outside Valium Villa, two cop cars pull up, and a few cops make for the door. We can hear the phone ringing inside, but no one comes to the door.