When they finally found the wallet, Cassandra had hardly remembered that they had been looking for it to begin with. Her mind must have been elsewhere. Or maybe it had been nowhere at all. Everywhere in the void, full of nothing at all. It didn't make sense, but she couldn't get herself to care so much.

Her hands still shook a little, her mind still wanting to go back to that clearing. But she didn't act on it. She was content with her current situation Or… maybe content wasn't the right word for it. Because she wasn't content at all, actually. Cassandra had just accepted that nothing else was on the menu for her. Trying to get the keys to the car and driving to where the missile had hit would only result in her being stopped before she took the first five steps. It would end in failure, no matter what she would try.

And even if she got there… What then? What did she expect to happen? That she could roll back time, get the kid and get out of there in time? It had already been an impossible situation to start with, no chance of it ever truly working out in her favour. The child would have died no matter what she did. Nothing could have been done about it.

Cassandra was still angry at herself for not doing the impossible, angry at Jules for stopping her from trying, and angry at Grunwald for taking a hard decision that likely stopped much blood from being shed.

That old man had done what he could, and the woman was beginning to accept that fact. He had used the tools he had at hand to determine the chance of civilian casualties. When asking for any signs of the child being alive, Cassandra had responded in the negative, not truly able to provide proof of the opposite. So… in a way, it hadn't truly been a murder. Grunwald had taken the child as dead and had decided to eradicate a force large enough to destroy the police station with everybody inside.

All things considered, it had been the best choice to make. When put in the same position, Cassandra didn't doubt that she would have done the same. Yet that still didn't stop her from loathing him, just as she would have loathed herself for it. That uncertainty about the child being alive or not just wouldn't stop from intruding in her mind. It had likely been dead, yet the idea of her being directly responsible for having the missile be sent directly into that small delicate body… It was gut-wrenching.

Cassandra hadn't been trained to accept that she had to kill kids. Nowhere had kids ever been mentioned. Adults? She could kill an adult. Cassandra had done it before and she could do it again without flinching. Being put into situations where her faltering meant her death had helped but that matters to rest. Yet kids just couldn't spark that same instinct from her.

Who could look at a small child and fear that they might be a killer? If Cassandra saw one charging at her with a knife, she would have dropped her gun to embrace it instead. There was no chance she could ever do it. If she as much as suspected that her actions would have led to that younglings death, it wouldn't have happened to begin with.

Taking a deep breath to get herself back into the present, Cassandra got herself together. The car was being driven by the automation, the two moving back to the apartment that had the old man inside. In her hand was the wallet. It was black, made of fake leather on the outside. The texture was off by a landslide, even if the appearance was uncanny. Cassandra supposed there were restrictions on just how realistic it could be.

Jules wasn't speeding along this time, driving along at a comfortable speed. Looking at the speedometer, Cassandra was mildly surprised to see that the construct was actually below the speed limit. How grandiose a day it was, if not for the woman knowing exactly why it was happening.

Her mask was back upon her face, her composure having been regained in the last few minutes. Nonetheless, Cassandra could clearly feel the instability within. Even if she had regained control of herself to some degree, she was still far from okay. And there was a chance that she wouldn't be okay for a long time.

They hadn't been lying about how desperate they had been for officers. Cassandra was clearly unfit for continuing her duties for at least a month, yet she had been directly told she would be staying in her position. Yes, she had been moved over to the normal duties, but that didn't mean much. In the end, she was still doing the job that had caused her to almost have a mental breakdown only a few hours prior.

She supposed that she could just quit. There wasn't anything stopping Cassandra from just… saying goodbye and skipping town. Sure, she would have to sign a lot of paperwork, but most of it could be done within a single evening. Even if there was a need for her yearly health check-ups, there was no reason to really continue, looking at it with a health-oriented view. She was clearly not fit to remain, making leaving the best opportunity to take.

And yet… there wasn't a chance of that happening. Cassandra was staying right where she was. Her dreams, her goals, and everything else in her life were directly connected to the position she held, and leaving it suddenly would do nothing but cut her ties with every dream she had ever created for herself. She was too old to start from the bottom again, retirement coming before any of the large promotions. The woman would sooner be in her grave than be able to gain the leadership position she so desperately wanted to have a grip around.

Looking at the automation beside her, it only fueled her desires already present. Cassandra would stay, even if it wasn't healthy. She had ignored her own health before, in favour of the gains she could gain politically. If she had to become stressed, if she had to feel sick on the job, Cassandra would bear through it all. She would endure and she would prosper before the end. Nothing would stop her, willpower triumphing over every other hurdle there could be.

“Your mask is slipping again,” Jules pointed out in a singsong voice. Maybe it was an imitation of the emotion Cassandra herself felt at that moment. The woman didn't particularly care, her mood having been improved by her aspirations. The ideas she had set for herself were like drugs to her, able to entice so much positivity in her life. It was the goal she strived for.

Nevertheless, the mention of a slipping mask wasn't something she could take lightly, especially when Cassandra had been so sure of it staying on. ‘Not okay’ indeed. Her mind had not prepared itself to automatically hold up that calm look she always wanted to be shown. Did she actually have to keep it up manually? How much of a pain the next few days were going to be because of it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cassandra answered, getting herself a once-over. One of the underappreciated utilities of a police vehicle was the mirrors. They were hardly ever used for looking at the road, their true abilities coming forth in the form of them being used for making sure that appearances were being kept up.

Her hair was frizzy at the ends, looking nearly as impeccable as ever, and her face looked like that of a goddess. Cassandra at least thought so, knowing fully that the first step to beauty was full and utter confidence in herself.

That confidence had not been portrayed during the initial meeting, being the reason why Jules had handled the talking then. But… that wasn't going to happen this time. Even if but a moment long, Cassandra had hated staying back and letting others do the talking. She had hated it during her time as a trainee and new cop, and she hated it more than ever now. Yet there had been a reason for it, so she supposed she would have to accept that it happened and get over it. Not now, however. This time, she would be the one on top.

Even with the reduced speed, there was only so much distance that needed to be covered. The vehicle came to a halt outside the apartment building, and Cassandra stepped out with the elegance of a proud feline, without sound or anything indicating flaw. Everything was impeccable.

With the wallet in hand, Cassandra walked up the stairs, not using the elevator, as protocol so demanded of them. Jules followed behind, looking as happy as ever. The woman hoped that smile would be wiped off within the next minute, for they had a civilian to meet. And as a rule that always needed to be followed, being seen as a human was never a good idea. Humans could be pushed around with. The force that brought security? They were never to be trifled yet

Reaching the fourth floor, the hallway was walked down and the right room was found. The apartment building was for some of the richer of society, yet not rich enough to warrant a whole building for himself. Not like anybody of the truly rich would live in the city or stay there during a crisis such as the one they currently had. But… Some were still rich enough to have wallets like the one Cassandra had in her hand, so there wasn't really any strong criticism towards them. ‘Whatever kept the economy alive,’ Cassandra supposed.

Knocking thrice, the door was opened within the minute, the stature of a more frail man was shown. Not that he wasn't tall, nearing full one-eighty centimetres in height. Quite the height for a man with such a bent back. Cassandra could only wonder how tall he had been during his prime.

“Your wallet has been found, Mr Bowie,” Cassandra started professionally, handing the small wallet to the old man. It was received with no immediate questions, allowing the woman to continue. “If you would be so kind as to verify its contents, we can make sure that everything is in order.”

The old man nodded, opening up the smaller leather packet. The woman wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to be in those things, nowadays. Nearly all currency had moved to the digital side of things, and those bills still floating around were hard to use if not nearly impossible. Even the bank had a hard time accepting them. Nevertheless, the man did seem to find all things in order. Cassandra didn't stare for too long either.

Closing the wallet, the man put it in his pocket and looked up at Cassandra. She could see directly into his sunken eyes and the old man likewise stared right into hers.

“You are more gentle now. Your movements have become serene,” the old man stated, with a curious tone to him. Cassandra could have requested such comments to be stopped but felt in the mood to hear him out. “So much change in so little time. Mind I ask how this was done?”

That… was a loaded question. And not one that would have ever been asked. The chances of the records being looked at were too high, after all, and answering in too high detail could be the reason for a promotion opportunity being lost. Yet… that threat had been lost somewhat, her records having been sealed. A smile sprouted at the thought, one made intentionally. She was in full control of the situation.

“I was helped along from a serious temper tantrum. It has worked wonders on my mood,” Cassandra answered, averting her eyes for a moment to sell the impression perfectly. She could almost hear the aww being sent her way. She loved it.

The old man nodded when she reestablished the eyes meeting again. He seemed to understand perfectly.

“Gentleness clears the soul, love cleans the mind and makes it free,” the old man recited wholly, though Cassandra couldn't have given three guesses on where it came from. “I like your answer. If I have any more problems, I will call you. I will see you at another time.”

With a nod of the head, which was mirrored in appreciation, the old man closed the door, locking it in his way. The eccentric quoting and quick farewell might have caused some annoyance to Cassandra before, yet a genuine smile couldn't help but come forth.

The day might have been bad overall, yet even it could have some bright moments attached. Cassandra only hoped the average could be turned favourably soon. The day would not end soon, after all.