The harsh, fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway seemed to buzz with a tension that matched the one coiling in Hye-mi's gut. He walked beside Do-hyun, his steps echoing on the linoleum floor as they approached the other private room. Taking a steadying breath, he pushed the door open.
Inside, the man known only as K was reclining in the hospital bed, propped against the pillows. His face, usually so animated for the cameras, was a carefully constructed mask of cold indifference. His eyes, when they landed on Hye-mi, held a storm of unspoken anger, making the sterile room feel icy.
"Where were you?" K's voice was low, a sharp blade in the quiet room.
Hye-mi's jaw tightened. He shoved his hands into his pockets, feigning a nonchalance he didn't feel. "Nowhere. A friend called," he said, his tone deliberately even.
