The doors out of the SafeSpace parted ways, the movement accompanied by a deep whir. The lights of the hallway beyond the room greeted Margo like the sun on a new day, and she clenched her eyes shut as the light chased away the darkness. She rose from her seat and stood before the exit, covering her eyes with her arm.

"Thank you for today's session," a soothing voice greeted her in her head. "Psychwatch hopes you feel better after today, and please come again if you need any further support. We will always be here for you."

Margo rolled her eyes. She took one more glimpse at the pitch-black room behind her, hoping the SanityScan would detect her annoyance before her colleagues did. Not that it'd be a problem considering it detected a lot of things before even the most observant human being could. But she instantly regretted the impulsive act once she saw the Scan flash bright red, peering out at her like a monster in the dark as the doors closed shut behind her.

"Don't forget your ThoughtControl piece, Sandoval," Mason reappeared, this time communicating with Margo through a nearby Scan. "You're lucky you don't call too many people with it. Made it easier to review your memories and conversations."

Three beeps emanated behind Margo, and when she looked back, she saw a slot beside the SafeSpace's doors slide open. And there lay her ThoughtControl piece. She took it from the slot and nudged it back into her ear. The slot closed back up again, and Margo marched over to the same Scan where Mason continued to torment her.

"Well excuse me for not having much of a social life," she hissed. "It's kinda hard to maintain one with a profession like this."

"Quit the snark and report to my office," Mason replied again. "Sanger says the two of you have something to show me."

And with that, Margo felt the connection fade from her brain. It made her feel more free, like guilt washing away.

She made her way down the hall, passing by those same portraits of the founders. She remembered Mason comparing her to Cyrus Lynch. People often said he was far more compassionate than his partner, Tetsuo Fujioka. While Fujioka was the one who enforced the militarization of Psychwatch, Lynch brought the core empathy to the foundation. He knew what they had gone through. He faced discrimination for being a bisexual man with obsessive-compulsive disorder, and he wanted to save others from the pain he went through. However, he never saved a special place in his heart for his own well-being. Other people mattered to him more, and his mental health suffered because of that. Then came the day he just suddenly vanished, undetected even by his own creation.

Lynch, Carl, and I are all the same, Margo thought. Just kind folks who will disappear off the face of the earth for seeing our patients for more than just their diagnoses.

The hall was quiet. Margo could hear her footsteps echo throughout as if she were trailing down an uncharted tunnel. Beyond the windows, she could see the Philadelphia skyline towering above her as it always did. The sky seemed like it would never be any other color than gray. The seats and couches around her felt like they were missing people. People she couldn't save. Ones she was too stubborn to ever learn to care about. People she realized were probably suffering more than she did. Their existence undermined her, threw her to the end of the line entering a crowded hospital.

She didn't matter anymore. All that mattered in her mind was what she provided for others.

"Stand clear of the exit please," a robotic voice chirped, and Margo jolted her head to the right to see another SafeSpace crank open. She angrily clenched her fists shut once she caught sight of its occupant.

Jack Holloway, alive and well. Approaching her with a mechanical gait.

"Sandoval!" he greeted, another one of his forced smirks already crossing his face, "It's been a long damn time. Surprised you—"

He stumbled back. The side of his lip proceeded to bleed now that Margo's fist had come in contact with it. Margo grabbed her hand, rubbing the throbbing area where the bruises would eventually appear.

"Surprised I what?" she growled.

Jack turned his head back so he could look down at his colleague. He spat out some blood and said, "Surprised you're not cowering in a corner somewhere hoping someone could put you out of your misery. It takes a lot to impress me, but you did it."

"Is that supposed to flatter me?"

"No, but you seem like one of those self-gratifying kind of types, so I thought I'd help with that. I'm loving the new attitude though. That 'optimistic, naive newbie' thing you had before was so damn annoying."

"That wasn't a 'thing.' I came here because I wanted to help people. And don't insult me for putting up a front when you're the one who's pretending to be a sociopath."

"Bitch, let's see how you turn out after going through the shit I've been through."

"You will see! I'm here now. And if I ever do go through whatever you went through, I'm gonna set an example. I'll be proof that good people can still come from the worst of backgrounds and lifestyles. Proof that people can choose not to be like you!"

"Oh please. You don't have the kind of backbone for that."

"Well, unlike you, at least I still have one!"

"SANDOVAL! HOLLOWAY!" shouted Mason at the end of the hall, her head peeping out of the door. "Get in here right now before I throw both of you back onto the streets!"

Margo and Jack turned toward their superior. "Yes, ma'am," they replied in unison and marched forward.

"That was the most immature, disgraceful thing I've seen in my entire life," Mason growled. "And I mean it. If you ever act like children around me again, that'll be the end of both of you."

The two of them exchanged hateful glances, the kind that damned the other person to a life of pain and suffering, before walking into the room. The only piercing gaze worse than their own was the kind Commissioner Mason had in store for them. It reduced the foolish duo of doctor-cops to nothing more than a silent pair of pawns, both of them unable to look up from the ground.

"Sanger," Mason told Holden, who sat in the corner of the room with the rabbit mask sealed in a plastic bag, "I hope you know how much I admire you. Please set a positive example for your fellow colleagues. They seem to be lacking in dignity and maturity lately."

"With all due respect, Commissioner," Holden replied sheepishly, "they've been through a lot lately. I honestly don't blame them for being angry. These have been a very frustrating couple of days."

"We are Psychwatch officers, Sanger. We don't take out our frustrations on other people just because we've 'been through a lot lately.' We are professionals. We behave, work, and live like we always know what we are doing."

"But we don't always know what we're doing," Margo chimed in, her voice low as her head remained tilted toward the floor with shame.

"Well, that's the beauty of the human mind, Miss Sandoval. It never stops learning. It never wants to stop learning. It won't stay in the dark forever. No matter how hard you try and hide things from it." Mason paused to take a deep breath. "So...I hear you and Officer Sanger have something to show me."

"Yes, we do," Margo replied. She glanced over at the plastic bag in Holden's hand before taking another quick glance at Jack. "Why the hell is he here though? This was what Holden and I found, not him."

"If we manage to uncover something worthy of further investigation through this item you've brought us, he'll be helping us out if the mission requires brute force or interrogation."

"You do realize the last time he was used to run an interrogation, the subject succumbed to psychosis before being murdered in his cell?"

"You also realize I wasn't the only one who made that mistake?" Jack quipped. "What was her name again?"

Because Margo couldn't strangle her colleague to death, she stared at him with the same merciless look she'd always shown him.

"What the fuck, man?" Holden muttered under his breath.

"Holloway," Mason said, "watch your tongue before that ends up being the next thing you lose."

Suddenly, all eyes in the room were on Mason. "What the fuck, Commissioner?" Holden added.

Mason cleared her throat. "Sanger, tell me about this item you and Sandoval found."

"Uh, right." Now it was Holden's turn to clear his throat. "It's a Rabbit Hole mask. Me and Margo were volunteering at Skinner High, and while we were dumping the trash out back, we found it in the dumpster."

"Did you see anybody drop it there?"

"No, ma'am."

"When did you find it?"

"Last night around seven."

"Where'd you hear about the Rabbit Hole?"

Holden gulped. "People talked about it at school. Some kids said they'd go there every weekend to party, but it turns out they were just bullshitting us. The only time someone from my school actually did go there, they didn't come back the following Monday."

Mason raised a brow. "What happened to them?"

"They went missing. Didn't show up for the next two weeks. Once people started hanging spark roses around their locker and cops came by almost every day, we realized they had died."

"I'm sorry about that, Sanger." Mason paused for a moment. "What was the kid's name?"

"Evan Espinoza. I think he was sixteen. Quiet kid. He got picked on a lot. Pretty sure he had autism. That's why we were surprised he'd run off to a crazy place like the Rabbit Hole."

Mason extended her hand toward the boy. "Hand me the bag, Sanger," she said.

Holden quietly did what he was ordered.

"Were you close with Evan, Holden?" Margo asked, still setting her sights on the floor beneath her.

"Not really," Holden replied. "Like I said, he kept to himself most of the time. Hated being touched, hated loud noises. And yet he ended up in a place full of loud noises and all kinds of touching."

"I'm sure it was peer pressure then. Did he go there alone?"

"No, he tagged along with some of the noisier kids. I think they felt bad for him."

Margo looked over at Jack again, surprised he wasn't running his mouth or leaving a hurtful comment like he always did. But now that the thought crossed her mind, she realized she might have jinxed it for everyone and his silence definitely wouldn't last any longer after that.

"Well..." Mason said, taking a closer look at the mask in the bag, "is there anything else you know about this Rabbit Hole place and why people your age are so willing to risk their lives to get to it?"

"It's where they make the Nympho shit," Jack finally chimed in. "Wonderland Mist."

Oh, now he talks, Margo thought with a roll of her eyes.

"Why the hell did you wait so long to offer some input?" Mason groaned.

"I was a little concerned you'd detonate the bomb in my spinal implants or something."

Even that seemed a bit much to Margo. "Why would you do that to him, Commissioner?" she asked, more visibly concerned than she was hoping.

"There are no goddamn explosives," Mason growled. "Just extra shock and motor implants. If he gets out of hand, I can paralyze him whenever I want. As long as he says things that actually add to either his personal development or that of his career and colleagues, he'll be fine."

"Yeah, aside from having all this shit in my body, I'm fine," Jack deadpanned.

He realized he should've stopped making a fool of himself once he felt like nearly every muscle and organ in his body were tensing up. Margo backed away as she watched Jack's flesh glow bright red, and veins popped out all over his body as if he were about to explode. Eventually, his body returned to normal, but his breathing grew harsh and fast. He flashed Mason his deathly glare.

"As I said, Officer Holloway," Mason continued, "think before you speak. Your future depends on it."

Margo looked at Mason, a subconscious fear of her sprouting up like a seed. She looked at Holden, sharing his obvious discomfort at the sight of their colleague's treatment, whether he deserved it or not. A shiver went down her spine when she saw how hard it was for Jack to regain his composure. Of all people, the guy who could somewhat master a pretentious facade, finally struggling for once.

"Also, uh, Commissioner," Holden said in a shaky voice, "you need that mask to get into the Rabbit Hole. That's the minimal requirement. Although, a lot of people wear them just to look cool or creepy without ever having been to the actual place."

"I saw a few kids wearing them at the rally," Margo added. "And apparently, Carl and Andrade saw some other kids wearing them when they went to interview the principal of Skinner High the other day."

Mason's expression grew blank. "So there's a chance this is just part of some kid's costume, is what you're saying," she muttered.

Margo and Holden remained silent.

"No matter. We'll send it to forensics for further analysis. In the meantime, Sanger, Sandoval, search through the Psychwatch patient database for recovered addicts or patients undergoing rehabilitation. I'll send Andrade over with further details to help with that. Holloway, report back to your cell. We'll activate your holo-projection once we need you again."

"Trust me, Mason," he muttered, "you're gonna need me."

Mason glared at him. "Right," she said. "Dismissed."

Margo and Jack departed from the room, refusing to look at each other. Holden stayed behind. "What will happen if the mask comes back clean?" he asked.

Mason stayed silent.

"Commissioner?"