There must have been some mistake. Korbin was on the country road one second, but seconds later he was in some sort of box. The walls were glowing white, and there were no doors or windows. not even a line in the wall. Solid, floor and ceiling. The doctor must be wondering where he is. The only thing in the room other than him was a round table, white, and a white chair pushed up to it. He cautiously sat in it, as though he thought something might happen if he put all his weight on it.
After three hours of waiting he knew something must be wrong. Steven sat at the bar of his very favorite bar on the outskirts of New Orleans near his old house. He hadn't been to the bar since the day of the divorce. So much had changed since then, he had met Korbin, gotten the arch, and even became a world renowned doctor of psychology.
Three hours was too long, he quickly finished his drink, rushed out of the bar and tore towards the mansion. He saw no one on the way, and he soon found himself in front of the wrought iron fence. He wished he still had the key, but she made him give it back after the divorce.
He started to bang on the fence, hoping she, or someone else would hear him. No one came, so he started to climb.