It had been six days, and still no contact from Carl or Psychwatch.

The walls of the Skinner High School gymnasium felt like they were approaching Margo closer and closer than the last time she'd seen them. Seeing it reduced to a triage only hours after the Red Riot last week induced that effect on her. She was only glad to see that the amount of anguish had gone down significantly. Sorrow still hung over the world around her like pollution, but she at least knew that progress was being made. At least people's wounds were being tended.

Over the past few days, she and Holden as well as Nikki—though she didn't show up as often as they did—received the opportunities to take part in aiding the injured citizens in a variety of recovery methods. Margo and her mother aided several disoriented people through physical therapy, guiding them through stretches and small walks back and forth until they gained the confidence to stroll down city blocks once again. Holden and Nikki witnessed the magic of nanotechnology on seemingly irreparable wounds, reducing rugged gashes and lacerations to nothing more than faint scars. However, Nikki had to constantly look away during the process.

At one point, Margo paused what she did to watch the healing commence, and she raised a brow when she realized the same process wasn't done for her. Stitches pinched the skin of her thighs, arm, and shoulder like a quilt. She knew the scars would be infinitely more conspicuous once she'd get the stitches out the following day, a sight she wasn't looking forward to seeing.

"Your treatment was like everyone else's that day, Margo," Holden explained. "Impromptu. Nanosurgery takes longer and is more expensive, so they could only start doing it once they learned to keep better track of the patients. However, I heard even Royce and Holloway got nanosurgery since they were one of the first to be sent to the hospital. It helps that Psychwatch paid for their treatment."

"Speaking of which," Margo replied, her and her young colleague walking away, "what the hell happened to them? Why isn't Mason badgering them like how she's doing Carl?"

"She already did. And it fucked them up badly."

Margo took a doubletake, jerking her head to the side in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Mason paid for a cybernetic spinal implant that would give Holloway the ability to walk again, but she also messed around with it in order to get him to talk. Used it to screw with his central nervous system like a truth serum. But she got nothing. All he did was await the arrival of Assault Fatemakers at the rally, and once he got his hands on them, he stormed off like a soldier into battle. And apparently, he's still coming back to work tomorrow just like everyone else."

"Jesus," Margo winced. "What about Royce?"

Holden gasped. "He got it worse than Holloway. Apparently, the rally and the wounds he received completely broke him. He hasn't spoken a word since then, he hardly sleeps, and the Scans show him enduring intense hallucinations and trauma. If it gets any worse, his acute stress disorder could eventually transform into full-blown PTSD. So that rendered any information we could get from him unreliable."

A shiver went down Margo's spine at the thought of what Royce was going through. Not being able to sleep or scream. And knowing the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, the rare moments he would get sleep were undoubtedly riddled with horrible nightmares. For the first time in a long time, Margo felt some sympathy for her colleague, as cold and blunt as he might've been.

Although, she couldn't decide to what extent she felt bad. Royce was lucky the only other person he was being compared to was Jack, a genuine sociopath. Or at least he appeared to be.

"Is he ever coming back?" Margo asked Holden.

Her young colleague shrugged. "Beats me. Last I checked, Mason ordered a spinal implant for him, too. But considering all the psychological shit he's dealing with and all the therapy he'll probably be forced to attend, he won't return to Psychwatch for a couple of months at least."

"Well, at least he'll have that Sofia girl to keep him company."

Holden raised a brow. "Wait, who?" he asked.

The two of them froze in place. "Sofia?" Margo repeated. "Royce hasn't told you about her?"

"It's my first time hearing about this."

"Yeah, I guess she's his new girlfriend or something. He told me about her after the night Finn and James DeShawn were killed during the break-in. But Carl always told me he was never into relationships."

"Well, most guys don't stay celibate," Holden chuckled.

"Glad I'm not a guy then," Margo muttered with a roll of her eye, and the two of them proceeded their walk.

Several minutes later, Margo and Holden stood in the middle of two dozen foldable, rectangular tables. Volunteers both young and old were setting up folding chairs in preparation for dinner while others worked on activating the holo-projectors to provide some entertainment. Margo's mother and four other adults stood by the exit of the gym.

"Margo! Holden!" Karen called out, waving at them. "Come help us out. The pizza will be here soon."

The two doctor-cops scurried over to the entrance. Upon closer inspection, Margo realized one of the other volunteers waiting by the exit was Principal Isabella Zhang, who still wore a somber, guilt-ridden expression like an immovable mask. Margo quickly scanned herself for any evidence of her controversial occupation, letting out a sigh of relief once she could confirm there wasn't a trace of Psychwatch on her. She turned to Holden to repeat the process.

"Margo, why are you staring at me like that?" he asked.

Jazz music resonated out of Karen's pocket, and Margo and Holden looked back at her to see her answer her phone.

"Hello?" she asked. "Oh, they're here? We'll be out there in a second." She hung up and slid her phone back into her pocket, turning to her daughter. "Pizza's here, sweetie! Let's go."

"I thought bots would pass out the pizza," Margo said.

"Of course! But who do you think hands the bots the food, silly?

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Margo, Karen, and Holden were sitting at a table, chowing down on pizza like everyone else in the room who could still walk or move around. At the far end of their makeshift cafeteria, holographic TV screens hovered several feet above the famished patients and volunteers, distracting them from the horrors of the present day with cartoons and old movies. Other patients found solace in VR headsets; although, nurses and Empaths had to stay by their side to ensure they didn't sink too deep. It wasn't hard to delve into a simulated paradise and never want to return, especially at a time like that.

Holden watched as short robots traversed through the rows between the tables like cabs down city streets. Each one was exactly the same: silver-colored, standing about four feet tall, and lined with circuit-like patterns that were one of three colors. The bots with red lines transported boxes of pizza to each table, pausing whenever someone approached it. Blue lines meant the bots were providing drinks. And the ones in green offered VR headsets. He had nearly gotten his hand on a set until Margo smacked his hand away and gestured to the bot to move away.

"But I wasn't even gonna activate my Specter's account!" he whined. "I wanted to watch a movie."

"Oh yeah? What kind of movie?" Margo grumbled.

"One with sex and nudity, of course." That earned him a smack across the head from his colleague.

"Margo, leave him alone," Karen said. "And Holden, be mindful of what you watch, especially in public."

"Hey, this a free country! You cannot sexually repress me like this!"

Karen groaned. "You're kidding, right?"

"Oh, totally. I was just doing an impression of an Omniluv member," Holden laughed. That earned him plenty of hostile glares from the people around him, some of whom he realized were a part of the infamous group he'd just mocked.

"Again, Holden, tone it down a bit," Karen added in a softer tone. "These people are still hurting. It's best to show them some respect." She paused. "Aren't you hurting, too, honey?"

On cue, Holden broke eye contact, his sight set on the table before him. "For a while now," he replied. "If the pills hide that fact, usually my sense of humor does. But I can tell both of you know me better than that."

"You want to stay strong for the rest of us," Margo added, placing her hand on Holden's back.

"Nah, I just hate crying in front of other people. I sound weird when I cry."

Margo chuckled. "You're not the only one, buddy, " she replied, and a feeling of deja vu came over as she realized that was the exact kind of thing Carl would say. "Anything else on your mind you'd like to tell usabout?"

Holden winced. "I don't think that's a good idea," he uttered quickly, and he leaped from his seat to pursue one of the bots offering drinks.

Margo turned back to look at her mother. "How are you feeling, Mom?" she asked. "I know that constantly being here must be overwhelming at times."

"I'm doing alright, honey," Karen sighed. "But thanks for asking. And helping around admittedly can be a bit stressful, not to mention heartbreaking. A lot of these people still haven't been admitted into hospitals, and social workers have been here all day trying to help out the young ones who've lost family members in the attack. But in the midst of everything, it's nice seeing people work together to help others out as if the stigma around mental illness suddenly disappeared."

"Too bad there's still a stigma around Psychwatch."

Karen waved her hand around. "Forget about those people. They're just ungrateful of the help they're receiving."

For some reason, Margo couldn't help but question that last statement. Particularly the word "help." Is that how they would justify wrongfully accusing Carl?

"How about you, Margo?" her mother continued. "How are you holding up?"

Margo took a deep breath, her hand crushing an empty soda can. "Not gonna lie, Mom," she spoke softly, her tone growing melancholy. "It's been tough. I've hardly gotten any sleep in a month. And ever since last Friday, I've been having nightmares. I feel like someone's out to get me just because I'm part of Psychwatch. Especially after finding the, uh...the bodies..."

A sorrowful expression crossed her mother's face. "Margo, I—" she whispered.

"I feel like I've been letting people down. I mean...sure, I helped get Holden and...and Nikki to safety. But I couldn't save Dottie. I couldn't save that girl Holden liked. I couldn't help Carl. And even Wendell Asch is dead. It's been a week and the body count only keeps rising."

"Margo..."

"That's why there's a stigma around Psychwatch, Mom. We promised perfection and we've got none of it!"

Karen glared down at the table, pondering the next selection of words she'd use. "I'm sorry to say this, honey," she finally said, "but maybe that's the problem. Psychwatch got everyone's hopes up by declaring that. And it's true. You and the rest of the organization are the future of mental healthcare. That's obvious. But you're all still human."

"Barely," Margo muttered.

That was not the correct response. Margo realized that once she saw the angered look on her mom's face. "Someone with your profession shouldn't be saying things like that," she said, her disappointment lingering like the stench of death. "But...you're actually right, I'll admit. Could've worded it a little better, but you're right. Psychwatch doesn't appear to be as hospitable as they claim to be. Did you know that a lot more people were more terrified of the organization's presence at the rally than the possibility of terrorist incidents?"

"No, I did not."

"Well, maybe you can be a positive influence on your colleagues. Like you told me a couple of days ago that you were able to save one of your patients by convincing her not to go to the rally, right?"

"Iris."

"See? You'll never be able to bring people back from the dead, Margo. Not you. Not Psychwatch. Nor any other person in the world will have that ability. But you can still be a hero. Show others like Iris and her mother the right way. Remind them of the importance of unity and compassion and sympathy."

"But Psychwatch isn't like that anymore, Mom. The things you're saying are the kinds of things I said when I was naive and carelessly made what I thought was the right decision."

"Margo, I am not naive. I've seen just as many horrible things as you have. Being hopeful isn't a sign of ignorance. But being hopeless is."

"I didn't say I was hopeless. I'm just having doubts."

"Well if you're having doubts, you should talk to me about them, sweetie! Not everyone here has this opportunity like you do. Some of these people have no one left. But you still have me, Margo! You can trust me. I'm your mother."

Margo's head lowered. Looking into her mother's weary eyes felt like a death sentence to her. She scratched her fingers against the white, plastic surface of the table, wondering what she would say next to isolate herself even further. Psychwatch was turning against her, she thought. Her mom couldn't be the next one. Especially not after Ellie.

Ellie!

"Mom," Margo croaked, "you wouldn't kick me out of your life, would you?"

Karen's mouth dropped wide open, and her face grew pale. Margo wished to herself that one day she'd be able to say something that wouldn't jeopardize their relationship. Or anything that'd prove she'd be better off incapacitated by Psychwatch rather than working among them.

"Of course not!" Karen replied, nearly on the verge of tears. "Why on earth would you think that way? You're all I have left, Margo!"

"Mom, you're getting loud. Could you please—"

"Why are you acting like this? I'm sorry if I'm being harsh, honey, but you worry me. Tell me what's really going on."

Royce told me to shoot myself, Margo wanted to say. Andrade blamed me for the home invasion. Mason dehumanizes her own patients and coworkers. Carl is being wrongfully accused. Jack is still allowed on the team despite being nothing more than a soulless killer. Dottie is dead. Dad is still missing. And Ellie is coming back. Can you really blame me for being hopeless, you fool?

But she couldn't say any of it. If she did, she'd have no one left. Everyone she just mentioned was either a loyalty being tested or a friend who was left down. She couldn't handle the thought of her mother being added to that list. So she simplified it down to her most recent concern. "Someone called me last night," she said. "Someone you don't approve of."

Karen managed to calm down, but fear replaced her anger. Or even sadness. With or without a ThoughtControl piece, she was unreadable to her own daughter. "Is it an ex-boyfriend of yours?" she asked.

"No," Margo chuckled nervously. "Someone you really don't like talking about."

She found it impossible to utter her sister's name. She had already made things worse for herself. Guess your familial bonds don't matter either, huh? she thought.

But somehow her mom was able to connect the dots. "Is it who I think it is?" she muttered. "Someone selfish? And cowardly? And unappreciative of family?"

Margo took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't regret bringing this topic up. "Yes, I'd say so."

Karen paused. Margo was relieved to see that she didn't seem to be on the verge of bursting into tears anymore, but she was still on edge thinking about her mother's next reaction. Margo had always been more terrified of people who could manage to remain so calm while feeling such immense rage. Like a grenade without its pin, a moment of serenity building up to an abrupt burst of violence.

Eventually, Karen told her daughter, "Thank you for letting me know, honey."

"You're not upset?" Margo asked.

"Depends. What was the call for?"

"A short visit sometime during these next two weeks. Are you alright with that?"

"No specific date?"

"Apparently, it was supposed to be a surprise."

A scowl crossed Karen's face, and frustration flooded her thoughts. "Well, we just gotta get this over with then," she sighed, her lack of enthusiasm as obvious as the sun.

"Great," Margo replied equally as passionless, and she rose from her seat. "I'm gonna go find Holden. I love you, Mom. Thank you for being here for me. And I hope you can forgive her for the things she did before and we can all have a nice reunion."

Margo moved too fast to see the look of confusion on her mother's face, nor could she hear said confusion summed up in a single, aghast word.

"Her?"