criminal love; jungwon

30

The air at school was suffocating, heavy with fear and whispers. The hallways were quieter than usual, a murmur of voices replacing the usual chatter. Everyone was talking about Minji and her friends—their sudden, mysterious deaths. They hadn’t even had a chance to speak to the police.

And now, they never would.

Nanhee sat at her desk, staring blankly at the board. The teacher’s voice droned on, but none of it registered. Her mind was elsewhere, swirling with questions and doubts.

This wasn’t a coincidence.

She clenched her fists, trying to calm the storm inside her. It had been bad enough when Chahyeon died, but this? It felt personal. Like someone was tying up loose ends.

Someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

Nanhee’s gaze drifted to Jungwon. He was sitting a few rows ahead, his head down, seemingly focused on his notebook. But she noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand gripped the pen a little too tightly.

Something was off.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

That afternoon, Nanhee stayed behind after class. The school was nearly empty, the silence pressing in on her as she wandered the halls. She made her way to the gym, the place where it all happened.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, the faint scent of cleaning supplies lingering in the air. The gym was spotless now, no trace of the chaos that had unfolded here. But Nanhee knew better.

She walked slowly, her footsteps echoing. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for anything out of place. Something the police might have missed.

And then she saw it.

Near the bleachers, tucked away in the shadows, was a small scrap of paper. Nanhee knelt down, picking it up carefully. The handwriting was familiar—messy, rushed. Her heart pounded as she read the words.

“For Nanhee.”

Her breath hitched. What did this mean? Was it a warning? A message?

She tucked the note into her pocket, her mind racing. She needed answers.

Over the next few days, Nanhee began her investigation. She kept to herself, watching, listening. She asked questions, subtle ones, trying not to draw attention.

The more she dug, the more uneasy she felt.

There were no leads. No suspects. The police were stumped, and the students were too afraid to speak up. It was like a veil had been thrown over the entire school.

But Nanhee wasn’t giving up.

She spent her evenings poring over news articles, crime reports, anything that could help her piece things together. She even visited the library, searching for books on criminal psychology and forensics.

Every clue, every detail, brought her closer to the truth.