Riche Gaston lowered the tip of the syringe to Stephanie's arm. She sat up straight on the patient's bed, her hand clutching at the bedsheet, feeling nervous. Beads of sweat started dotting her forehead. Mark patted the pearls with tissue paper, but his hands also trembled. Everybody around her was nervous, that didn't help her to become calmer.
"Any potential side effects?" Stephanie repeated the question. She had been asking the same question five times since the early morning already, everytime Riche Gaston came from the lab with the result, and he presented her with the new findings. The New Police guards still stood like a ramrod outside her door, their firearms visible as if threatening them that whoever wanted to leave must receive the bullet from the end of this gun.
