Ririko's gaze lingered on Jerome's face for a beat. "Are you hiding something from me?"
He grinned and dodged the question. "Of course not. My feelings for you are genuine."
An officer came out of the building and called to Jerome, "Hey! Stop chatting with the student and get over here."
Jerome turned and waved at the officer with excessive enthusiasm, then looked back and mouthed, Wait for me, baby. I'll be quick.
Then he turned and headed toward the building.
Standing outside the gate, Ririko took a sip of her latte, certain he was hiding something important from her.
Scarecrow's threat continued to escalate, and every corner of Gotham was discussing the impending terrorist attack.
News channels ran the headline "Fear toxin threat escalates" on a loop, while experts sat in studios analyzing Scarecrow's criminal psychology.
Some people had already begun stockpiling masks and drinking water; others were asking, "Will the fear gas have any lasting side effects?"
The police station's phones rang off the hook, and City Hall's complaint box overflowed with protest letters from citizens. Pressure on the police came from all sides.
Barbara posted a message in the Dark Web group, just a few words: "I haven't slept in three days."
An emoji with dark circles under its eyes followed.
Ririko replied with a sticker of a kitten getting its head patted.
She was in her Dormitory, watching the news on television with an expensive sheet mask on her face.
Jerome had led his team on a two-day "investigation," apparently without providing the police with any useful intelligence.
Ririko gently pressed down the edges of her mask, wondering what he was up to.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
She went to the door and looked through the peephole. A uniformed officer stood outside.
She opened the