Swamped

There's a table up against the wall, and a plate on it with a sandwich. Uneaten.

And you suddenly realize you never got fed. Probably because it was so busy. The bar across the way is the main source of food here, since it's so close and open all night. Now that you think of it, you wouldn't be surprised if one place was specifically built to be near the other.

But you've seen their food. Both eating there when work ran late, and helping out at meal time. The bread in their sandwiches looks completely different. You wonder if this was here before.

When the doctor returns, you ask him about it.

"It's not mine," he says. "In fact, I don't think that table is usually out there. I'm sorry, but I really have to calm everyone down as best I can right now."

The table isn't usually out? So somebody pulled up a table, put a sandwich on it, and then just left it there? Why?

Your best guess is that a patient was sneaking a midnight snack, then decided it was best not to when the alarm sounded. It's unlikely to be anything sinister, considering the effort it would take to drag a table around. That would be quite hard to do without anybody noticing.

But something gives you pause about just leaving it there. And not just your empty stomach. You feel like you've seen this type of bread somewhere else.