He called you, asked you to come, you could hear in his voice that something was wrong. You thought it was probably the tryptocaine, which he didn't take because you asked him to give it up under threat of ending cooperation with the FBI. Now you blamed yourself for that.

Standing at the door of a motel room on the outskirts, you didn't dare knock. Why did you decide to help this guy in the first place? That's his problem, right? But you couldn't do that to him, you felt sorry for him, you were the only one who could help him now. You were about to knock, but the door opened at your light touch. You went inside and saw Norman lying on the floor with blood flowing nonstop from his nose. Agent was so exhausted that he didn't even notice you coming into the room.