Athena's tears fell unbidden when she saw the bright color of Mrs. Mendoza countenance, patient 409, a sharp contrast to the previous near-death state of the aged woman.
She didn't care for the police officials and people who turned to stare at her in surprise, wondering why she was crying so unabashedly.
They wouldn't understand, she thought, wiping off the tears that refused to heed her command to stop falling. Her life's work had been on the brink of being contaminated, being extinguished, and yet there stood a flicker of hope that maybe the gang's plans would be foiled once again.
She was so engrossed with her thoughts, fighting to stop her tears from falling, that she didn't notice when the female officer sat near her again, until the latter tapped her reassuringly on the shoulder.
"You see, everything is working well. I'm sure you'll be out of here soon."
Athena nodded her thanks, fixing her eyes on the screen. Mrs. Mendoza was about to speak.
