Mako fiddles with a fraying thread on the sleeve of her uniform and tempers a low sigh. Plodding through the emails of the victim of a domestic murder is not what she had planned for herself when she embarked on a career in computer forensics. The victim is - was, she must still correct herself mentally with a faint pang of guilt - sloppy, doing little more besides trash some incriminating emails to cover up his illicit affairs with one, two, three other women.

She leans back in their dead victim's chair and gestures at his computer screen and its damning content with blue-gloved hands.

"Wow, really?" One of the forensics guys blinks at her in surprise. "Seriously, Mori, how d'you do that so quick?"

Mako shrugs and stands and retrieves her jacket from the back of the chair, peeling away her gloves as she goes.

"Wait, you can't - are you just going"? he calls after her.

She does not answer. She is so intent on not answering, in fact, that she nearly crashes into one of the detectives as he's leaving. She makes a tiny noise of alarm and steps back to let him pass.

"Pardon," she says politely, but cannot resist frowning at his apparent parting words. "Episode?"