Jason tried to look tough as he entered the police precinct. He had made a call to the lieutenant earlier and she had agreed to meet him for a few minutes. He followed the officer who directed him towards the lieutenant’s office. He tried not to look surprised when they passed by her office and instead headed to another room. Jason held his breath as he saw that woman in a sports bra and shorts, hitting rapid blows onto a punching bag. The loud succession of thumps it kept making told him how hard her punches were. He couldn’t help but stare at her physique. Goddamn. She was a sexy chick. The scars on her body were distracting though. The officer beside him uncomfortably cleared his voice, “Lieutenant!” Megan instantly clasped the bag with both hands to prevent it from swinging far and glared at the man, “What did I say about disturbing me, Matt?” He averted his eyes, “Sorry. He’s here—” “Right. Thanks. Leave us now.” Jason gazed at her as she held a water bottle and drank a gene

Selena felt alone. Empty. She still had the phone clenched in her hand. There were lots of messages and missed calls from Jason, a few from her friends, from her sister, from her neighbor and some from the art director, telling her that the exhibition was now closed and that she could come and recuperate her paintings. She sighed, just wanting to throw the device away and erase herself from this world for one day. She had no idea what to do. “Is it here, miss?” “Just a block ahead.” When the taxi pulled over right next to her apartment building, she fumbled in her pocket, taking out her card and paid the driver. She stepped out, walked in the building and stood before the elevator, pressing the button only to find that it was out of service…again. Bother. She directed herself to the stairs instead. There was only two floors in this building and she reached her door found on the top floor within minutes. She fumbled with her key, opened the door and entered her apartment. God, it

She slowly awoke, finding Jason sleeping beside her. She unconsciously winced and she immediately clamped her hand hard onto her mouth, suffocating the sound she just made. Her body hurt. It took all her self-control not to burst in tears right now. Unbearably slow, she moved the sheets away, keeping an eye on him for fear that he might wake up. She was too afraid to even breathe right now. She slipped out of the bed quietly, her body shaking as she carefully navigated the darkness. She bent down to pick up her shirt and her discarded jeans, realizing how much her body was aching. As she wore them, unable to prevent the light rustles of the clothing as they slid against her skin, she heard movement on the bed and she froze, fear consuming her. Her heart began throbbing loudly in her chest as she shut her eyes tightly, too frightened to even turn around to see if he was still sleeping. She swallowed her fear, slowly looking towards the bed, relieved to find that he was still in a dee

While the doctor was showering, she decided to cook something fast for them. That was the least she could do after all. Some pasta should do it. She opened the fridge to look for tomato sauce and some veggies only to find that it contained only some yogurts and fruit juice. She checked the freezer and was astounded to find only ice cubes sitting there. What the hell. She checked the cupboards to find them filled…with instant noodles. She grabbed one, staring at it before she put it away. What on earth. Maybe the doctor kept the ingredients somewhere else? She rushed upstairs to her bedroom, walked to the far bathroom, hearing the shower still running. She knocked at the door twice and called out, “Hey, Cass! Where are the ingredients?” “What?” “The ingredients! Veggies! I can’t find em.” She heard the shower stopping and Cassandra asked, “I didn’t hear you.” She bit her lips, resting her forehead against the door, “I want to cook something! I can’t find the tomato sauce, can’t

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Cassandra walked in her laboratory, carrying a vial of blood. She approached her microscope, brought the small light closer and used a dropper to lay a blood drop onto the transparent glass. She sat there, looking into the device, adjusting it till she saw the blood cells clearly. She tore a piece of paper, jotting down her observation. This wasn’t good. Hepatitis B. She clipped it to her patient’s file and walked out, “Charles, make a call to Ms. Isabella Scoffield and direct it to my office. It’s urgent.” “Right away.” Jillian sipped into her hot chocolate, watching the exchange as a spectator. She was having a ten minutes break right now while the new assistants were working as per her instructions. Cassandra opened her office door and then stepped back, approaching Charles’s desk. She snatched one of his favorite post-it notes much to his horror, grabbed his pen and jotted down Dr. P