Paul came to, the last thing he remembered was driving through the woods with snow lining the banks of the road. He hit a patch of black ice and lost control, before he woke up here, in quaint cottage bedroom and unable to feel his legs. Before he could try to make any more sense of the situation, the door opened and a young, buxom woman in an ill-fitting sweater came in, barely contained excitement plain on her face. "Oh, Paul!" She said, "I'm so sorry about the circumstances, but I am so glad to get to meet you!"
"You... you know my name?"
"Oh, of course, Paul. I'm your biggest fan, why... but I'm forgetting my manners and getting ahead of myself." Paul surmised this young lady had saved his life, pulled him from the wreckage and taken him in. His natural inclination to gratitude was tempered by the odd tinge in the way she looked at him. Paul had met his share of fans before, done autographs, the whole bit, but this lady,