Pam sits still and quiet on the lowered toilet lid, her hands on her knees, her gaze fixed on her hands. Red tears drip sluggishly from her eyes. Occasionally she sniffs.

She's sad, yes.

But rising from deep within her is anger.

At Russell Edgington. At Nan and the Authority. At the fucking Magister.

Even at Eric.

And right now, at herself as well, for losing control of her emotions in front of a human.