𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰𝒔 𝑶𝒖𝒓𝒔 ✓

Chapter 4

RESTING her back against the luxurious living room couch, she closed her eyes and sighed once again, her phone gripped tightly in her hand.

Her eyes opened once again as she raised the phone close to her sight, pressing the power button.

And was met by Hyunjin's bright smile as he held onto her, staring into the camera with a relaxed, moon-shaped gaze.

After all, he was her lock screen.

Her vision blurred as she stared at his features, the features that she had memorized since the beginning of their marriage. The very same features she had missed for the past week.

"Where are you, beautiful?" She whispered in a heartbroken tone. "I miss you."

Tears collected in her eyes once again, a terrifying thought crossing her mind and hitting her like a locomotive.

What if she never saw him again?

The thought made her heart race in despair and brought more tears into her eyes.

Unlocking her phone to head straight to the gallery, she pressed on a few pictures she took with her (extremely handsome) husband. A picture of him doing a peace sign with his slender fingers. Another one with his lips pouting and his eyes staring at her from behind the camera. And another with him clinging onto her as they slept on the comfortable bed.

She wiped away her tears and glanced away from the screen, soon exiting the gallery to press on the phone icon. Her fingers scrolled through the huge list of names to find the one contact info she was looking for.

Hyunjin's.

She pressed the green dial button and put the phone close to her ear, listening to the rings echoing through her ears.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four rings.

No answer.

She sighed sadly, wiping another tear that escaped her left eye.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she felt helpless.

And depressed.

Because where on earth could he be?

If not his friends' houses, his parents' house — which was highly unlikely — and her own house, where else?

Then, an idea popped up in her mind, making her sit up straight and look into her phone once again.

Find my iPhone tracker.

Why didn't she think of that?

She immediately scrolled through her phone and pressed on the wanted app, her hands lightly trembling to show how nervous she was.

After a few seconds of pressing on a few buttons, a map popped up before her eyes.

Her eyes widened in realization and shock as she got up from her seat on the couch, hurrying towards the counter by the front door to grab her car keys.

And dashed towards the front door to unlock it and run for her BMW, this time in the driver's seat as she had already sent the chauffeur home.

And as soon as she was sitting comfortably in the driver's seat, she inhaled and locked the doors to the car, then inserted the key.

She was going to do anything she could to bring her husband back.

❆

The woman sat down in front of the famous detective, her eyes sharp and serious as she focused on his words.

"Resources have told me that your son was last seen leaving your house. Do you mind telling us what happened during his visit?" He asked, his voice booming and echoing through the nearly empty interrogation room.

The woman visibly rolled her eyes, tearing her sight away from the man.

"He was telling us about his silly upcoming performance and that he wanted us to be there," she explained, her eyes gazing into nothing in pure disgust, "for support, or whatever."

"And what happened?"

She thought for a moment before speaking, "he just kept talking and talking, and I was just so bored so I went back to my room. My husband kept talking to him until he left."

A shock of electricity jolted through her hand, allowing a small scoff to form on the detective's face.

"By 'talking', you mean yelling. Right?"

"Who's your resource, huh?" The woman suddenly asked, sitting up straight and throwing her back against the wooden chair. "Mal? Bang Chan? Seo Changbin?"

He sent her a tight smile in protest. "Answer the question, ma'am."

The woman pursed her lips together, refusing to reply.

"Did you hit your son that night?"

She rolled her eyes, then crossed one arm close to her chest in an attempt to cover herself.

"No," she replied, "I would never hit my kid."

Another shock jolted through her arm, making her flinch and pull her hand away, wincing in pain.

The two officers took a glance at each other while biting their lower lips, taken aback at the woman's words.

"How much did you hit him, Mrs. Hwang?"

She tore her gaze away from his, breaking the eye contact.

"O-Only once," she replied in hesitation, "because I was so upset."

A loud beep filled the room, followed by a long, jolt of electricity erupting through her arm. She let out a groan of pain and tried pulling her hand away.

"Stay still," the man ordered, his voice firm. A chill ran down her spine.

"How did you hit him?"

A long pause of uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"I-I slapped him, and pulled his hair," she squeaked out, "multiple times."

The man slammed his fist against the metal table, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. His breath hitched and caught in his throat.

"Ma'am,"his tone as dangerous and threatening as ever, "do you love your son?"

A long pause filled the room. The woman glanced around the room awkwardly once again, rubbing her free hand against her white blazer to relieve her stress.

"Of course I love my son-"

Before she could continue her sentence, a loud blaring sound erupted from the middle of the room.

And was followed by a long shock of electricity up her arm.

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