Was this truly what Heronica ant when she spoke of imnse sorrow befalling soon?
Athena found herself brooding on a solitary bench, her gaze fixated on the swirling eddies of air around her, blissfully ignorant of the frenetic activity bustling in every direction.
She had once fancied that an attack on Whitman Hospital was impossible. But now, as the insidious rumors and sensationalized headlines infiltrated the news cycle, the bitter joke was unmistakably on her. How could she have failed to consider such an outco?
Clenching her fists together, she replayed the nagging questions for the umpteenth ti.
Why hadn’t she learned from Ewan’s tragic case of poisoning? Why hadn’t she enlisted her children’s friends to help ferret out the individual who had dared to insult her practice? Or better yet, why hadn’t she launched her own thorough investigation?
She could lay the bla on her grueling schedule over the past few days, but a small voice inside insisted she should have checked. If only she had taken the threat more seriously—if only she hadn’t been so arrogant about staying one step ahead of the gang—perhaps this catastrophe could have been avoided.
The relentless "what-ifs" churned within her, suffocating her spirit.
Heronica and Cole had underscored an undeniable truth— the gang had struck at her deeply, hitting her in one of the most agonizing place of all: her patients’ lives.
A hard breath exited her lungs as she leaned her head against the cold, unyielding wall, her eyes involuntarily locking with those of an officer who peered at her from across the counter. His gaze was penetrating, heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
Was it pity? Sadness? Perhaps sothing darker?
His gaze faltered first, and he turned away to make a discreet phone call.
Who was he calling? She thought, having a feeling that the call was about her predicant.
After the police had thrust an arrest warrant into her hands and cuffed her like a criminal in front of colleagues and fellow doctors, she had turned to Finn, instructing him to secure a forensic pathologist capable of conducting thorough autopsies on the deceased patients.
Then, she had asked Jake to track down Aiden, before submitting herself to the police’s commands and following them dutifully to this bleak holding area.
rcifully, her position in the city had granted her a modicum of respect; they had refrained from shoving her into a cell. Yet the thought of Morgan lood large in her mind like a nacing shadow.
Athena gritted her teeth at the very thought of his na. He would pay for this transgression—she vowed, feeling a solitary tear slip down her cheek. She would ensure it, even if it beca her last act before she drew her final breath.
A female police officer approached her then, breaking the mounting silence.
"Where’s the lawyer and friend you spoke about? It’s been two hours, and there’s no sign of them. Once it’s eight PM, you’ll be locked inside the cell for the night," She said gently, a glimr of empathy reflected in her eyes as she noted the tear that shimred on Athena’s cheek.
When Athena failed to respond, the officer chose to settle on the adjacent bench, a gesture of compassion amidst the turmoil surrounding them. "Should I get you your phone?"
"No," Athena replied decisively, shaking her head. She didn’t need it; she had already briefed Jake on her situation.
Losing herself in pity wouldn’t aid her escape or protect her work. Besides, the scandal of her leaving the hospital in handcuffs was already splashed across the dia, headlines bold and sensational, like graffiti scrawled on a crumbling wall.
"Are you sure? The flood of calls blowing up your phone is rather concerning. Perhaps one of them could help..." The officer persisted, her voice steady, exhibiting an unexpected depth of concern.
"Why do you wish to assist ? Granting access to my phone would be breaking the rules here..." Athena finally murmured, refusing to turn her gaze from the wall that frad her world in despair.
"You saved my mother. She had the gray disease, and you saved her," The officer paused for a heartbeat, allowing the gravity of her words to settle like dust in the air. "I don’t know the full story, but I don’t believe that you would intentionally inflict harm on your patients. You are an exceptional physician. Perhaps you simply made an error in dosage..."
"I didn’t make a mistake with the dosage," Athena interjected sharply, urgency igniting within her. "The drug was perfect. I administered it myself to the first five patients, and they exhibited significant improvent. So how did they suddenly die?"
Her sense of frustration erupted as she continued, "Soone tampered with my drugs! All I need is a chance to prove it, to get out of this hell and confront the person responsible!"
The officer nodded slowly. "You’ll need a formidable lawyer to navigate this ss then. The chief has gathered incriminating evidence regarding the drugs. I overheard them discussing locating your private lab since the hospital lab technician revealed that you don’t conduct your experints within the hospital’s confines."
A wave of unease crashed over Athena. The gang was clearly attempting to leverage the police against her, targeting her lab, putting the cornerstone of her invaluable research directly at risk.
She couldn’t let that happen. "You’re right. Please, get my phone."
The officer nodded and stood up, intent on securing the connection Athena desperately needed. However, as she made her way toward the counter, the male officer who had earlier scrutinized Athena blocked her path with a stern deanor. "What do you want?"
"Her phone. It’s getting late, and no one has co for her yet..."
"Can’t do that. It’s against the rules," The male asserted, casting a disapproving glance at Athena that was both dismissive and accusatory.
An employee of the gang disguised as a cop or rely an overzealous officer? Athena wondered, scrutinizing the young man, who seed to be in his early thirties.
A sudden thought crystallized in her mind, turning her focus into steel. She stood up, her intentions unfurling as she approached the man, whose eyes narrowed with suspicion with each asured step she took.
"I haven’t made a single call at all," She stated firmly, halting in front of him.
"So?" He replied curtly, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Annoyance radiated from him like heat from a sun-baked pavent.
"It’s my right to make at least one phone call to my family or my lawyer. That right has yet to be fulfilled."
"Then why did you waste our ti sitting there?" He gestured dismissively toward the chairs that had offered her little comfort. "Or do you prefer to spend the night in a cell?"
Athena felt a swell of indignation rise within her, but she held back the retort she longed to unleash. Instead, she remained silent, contemplating the severity of her situation.
The man sighed heavily then, bent to pluck her phone from the shelf, and thrust it into her hands harshly.
Athena dialed Old Mr. Thorne’s number imdiately, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, each ring amplifying her anxiousness.
"Athena, thank God!" Old Mr. Thorne exclaid, his voice crackling with urgency as soon as she answered. "Don’t worry. Just sit tight. Aiden and I are making arrangents to get you out of here. We’ve discovered so clues that are leading us sowhere."
A wave of relief cascaded through Athena, igniting a flicker of hope that had dimd too often. "Thank you, friend. I’ll see you soon."
"Athena, wait..."
Athena paused, her finger hovering over the end call button as anticipation rippled through her. "What is it?"
"Patient 409, is it?"
"What happened to Patient 409?" She asked, a sudden surge of excitent slicing through her.
"She’s alive. And she has a wealth of information to share. We’re organizing a press conference. If there’s a television nearby, ask the police to turn it on—we’ll be going live in two minutes."
Inexplicably, a smile broke across Athena’s face, lighting her features in a way that felt foreign amidst the gloom.
No wonder they had taken so long, she thought, filled with newfound vigor. Handing her phone back to the police officer, she returned to her seat, feeling invincible. Perhaps this was the break she so desperately needed.
She looked up at the television, which was just starting to announce an ergency news concerning the case at the Whitman’s hospital.
"Good evening, everyone. Sorry to interrupt our scheduled programming for the eight p.m news, but we bring you news of a surprising turn of events..."
Athena watched, with the people in the station, as an excited press official interrogated a fellow, who was carrying so docunts in his hand.
Aiden. Athena thought in appreciation, relaxing her head on the wall.
"Mr. Aiden, you ntioned earlier that you are a close friend of Dr. Athena. What can you share about the recent developnts?" The reporter asked, voice steady but undeniably excited.
Aiden’s expression was serious, the weight of the situation etched across his brow. "The one thing that needs to be said is this: Dr. Athena’s drug was tampered with. With the assistance of highly experienced forensic pathologists, we discovered high doses of opioids in the blood of the deceased patients, drugs that were never used in the production of the new drugs. Furthermore, we unearthed evidence suggesting that the dication administered to the patients while she was unavailable had been compromised. This leads directly to the suspicion of foul play—not negligence on Dr. Athena’s part. Secondly, this is patient 409..."
As Aiden spoke, he turned aside, gesturing to the uncovered part of the scenery. Athena watched as Mrs ndoza, patient 409, stepped in front of the cara.
"Mrs. ndoza, welco. You were said to be infested with the Grey disease for the second ti, but you look better, despite being injected with Doctor Athena’s newly improved drug. Can you explain to us your own view on this case? How are you alive, while your fellow patients are dead?"
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