Second Overtime | JENSOO & CHAELISA

Chapter LII

At seven fourteen that evening, Jennie realized she'd been watching a bead of condensation slide down her water cup for minutes. Maybe five. Maybe twenty.

It moved in halting increments, catching on the ridges of the plastic before slipping onto the tray table and vanishing beneath a folded napkin.

She waited for it to reappear.

It didn't.

It was gone, absorbed into paper.

The television opposite her bed showed a cooking competition with the volume muted. A woman in a white apron wept over a collapsed cake, shoulders shaking, hands pressed to her face.

Yellow captions scrolled beneath her chin: I just wanted it to be perfect. I practiced all week.

Jennie watched the woman's mouth form words she couldn't hear.

She thought distantly that she couldn't remember the last time she'd cried over something so simple.

The hospital room had its own atmosphere now. Disinfectant wipes. Reheated rice. Lavender lotion from Nurse Park after Jennie said the soap made her hands feel like parchment.

Her dinner tray sat untouched. Three spoonfuls of soup. Half a dumpling. One slice of pear. Ms. Jung had told her she needed to eat. The pear was crisp, cold, sweet. Jennie resented it for tasting good. She ate it anyway.

Her father sat by the window, suit jacket folded across his lap. He'd been pretending to read his phone for ten minutes. The screen dimmed twice without him noticing. He'd tap it absently, the glow would return, then fade again.

Jennie watched the muscles in his jaw working even when he wasn't speaking.

When the knock came, his shoulders rose half an inch before he controlled them.

Ms. Jung entered carrying a slim folder tucked under one arm.

Jiyong stood. Ms. Jung closed the door with care, leaving open the narrow crack hospital policy required, and looked at Jennie rather than at him. That small choice told Jennie everything she needed to know about how bad this was going to be.

"There has been a development concerning a schoolmate of yours named Jihyo Park," Ms. Jung said.

Jennie's fingers found the edge of the blanket and curled.

"Why, what happened? Did she send the video?"

"No."

"Did she get in here? Did my mother let her into the hospital?"

"No, Jennie."

Ms. Jung set the folder on the rolling table, her hand resting on it for a moment before she let go.

Jennie's pulse climbed.

"Then what?"

Ms. Jung pulled the visitor's chair closer to the bed but didn't sit until Jennie nodded. The vinyl cushion sighed under her weight.

"There is new information about the extent of Jihyo's monitoring. About her arrangement with your mother. Some of what we've learned concerns your privacy and may become evidence in the safeguarding review and the legal proceedings."

Jennie looked at the folder. An ordinary object holding something that would alter the shape of every memory she'd ever had of being watched.

"How bad?"

Jiyong's phone went dark again in his hand. He didn't tap it back to life.

Ms. Jung didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice was careful without being evasive.