FATAL TROUBLE | JAY

6 - Hidden Camera

Y/N'S POV

My throat constricts, the lie I've been clinging to turning to ash in my mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about," I hold my hands together, knuckles white, staring down at the polished mahogany surface of my desk. Denial, a flimsy shield against the storm brewing in my eyes. "It was a mere accident. Stop playing detective."

"I'm not playing detective," He sighs and I look up at him, my gaze meeting his with both defiance and desperation. "My job isn't to pry into your past, Miss Lee. It's to keep you safe. And the more I understand, the better equipped I am to do that." Our eyes lock for longer than I'd intended but neither of us seems ready to break it. His eyes make my skin crawl in a way I can't explain. It's not a feeling of disgust, but a prickling awareness, a hyper-sensitivity to his presence that sets my nerves on edge.

"Can I get some air?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely a squeak. I can't breathe under the intensity of his gaze, like he's trying to burrow into my skull and unearth my deepest secrets.

Jay studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he gives a curt nod. "Balcony," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine, and he follows close behind as I practically stumble towards the glass doors leading to the balcony. Pushing them open, I step out into the cool morning air and take a deep, shaky breath as I lean against the railing, the world a dizzying blur of skyscrapers and rushing traffic.

It wasn't an accident. I know that much, and perhaps, it's the most terrifying truth of all. My father didn't have a heart attack, he was murdered. But because the police themselves seemed unwilling to investigate further and concluded the case by a heart attack, refusing to let anyone see my father's medical records or his corpse, I knew better than to push against the tides and trust anyone with the truth. Including my mother and my brother, the family that adopted me when I had no one to turn to. I've been keeping silent, deceiving them in the most painful way It kills me inside, but what choice do I have? I lost my leg merely because I knew. I can't imagine the loss that would befall them.

The cold morning air stings my cheeks as the memories flood back. I was young when the world crumbled around me for the second time. My mother and Heeseung were away after I told them I felt sick and wanted to stay home—a convenient excuse to avoid the birthday party my classmates were throwing for a boy who'd relentlessly bullied me. And the sound of a gunshot shattered the quiet afternoon. The silence that followed the gunshot was deafening. Then, another sound: a muffled thump, like something heavy hitting the floor. The metallic tang of fear flooded my mouth as I peeked through the peephole and saw men in dark suits, their faces obscured.

No sound escaped my lips as I stood there behind my door, regretting the lie I'd told. No sound escaped my lips when my mother and my brother cried in agony at the news of my father's sudden heart attack. The lie, a monstrous weight on my young shoulders, grew heavier with each passing day and I've come to realize that someone powerful enough manipulated the investigation, eliminated private investigators who got too close, and tried to silence witnesses. 

The only witness was me and the price I paid for witnessing the truth was a stolen leg and a lifetime of silence. 

"You're awfully quiet," Jay says and I jump, startled from the dark memories. He stands a few feet behind me, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. I clench my jaw, forcing myself to appear composed.

"Lost in thought," I manage, my voice tight. The city stretches out before us, a concrete jungle teeming with life, yet none of it seems to register. All I can see is the blurry image of men in dark suits, the metallic tang of fear in my mouth. "Aren't you supposed to be quiet and refuse to engage in meaningless conversations?" All I can hear is the pounding of my own heart, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my buried memories.