May 1, 2020
Book Two of the UNDONE series, following unrivaled
Jeon Jungkook is one of the youngest security experts in the country and he is working to keep his boss's company out of crisis. He is not alone. His friends are all professionals and d...
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Lyra lay on the hard cot of the cell.
She had fought back the panic as they had shoved a jail issued jumpsuit at her and took her own clothes away.
YoonGi had visited her after the questioning was done. She was really angry at herself at the flare of hope that surged when she saw him. That was going to have to be choked off. It had to die, there was no place for that now.
He had explained to her she would spend the night. Still it did not prepare her for the cold steel of this room.
The jumpsuit was thin and short sleeved. They did not allow her socks. She curled on the metal slab and pulled the rough blanket over her. The thin and well worn fabric was no comfort from the chill and she began to shiver.
She closed her eyes tightly, sure that her exhaustion would drag her into sleep. Even her nightmares were better than this reality.
But instead, when she closed her eyes, she began to recall in crystal clear details the events of this day.
She saw the clothes she picked out for work, nothing special, just the hanger that was hanging closest.
How she wished she had worn something pretty on her last day of freedom.
She revisited the errands she had run for Mr. Kim, worrying about a form she failed to get signed. She stopped herself from thinking about getting it signed tomorrow.
Then she was back, stepping off the elevator, seeing JK in the office, recalling how handsome he looked, how happy she was to see him.
Then… Then he came to her. Even now she felt her stomach turn at his expression.
She covered her ears, hoping she could block out the words this time. It was no use.
“I know" echoed around the room as surely as if he had been standing down the concrete and steel lined hall shouting it at her.
She frowned as she tried to remember how she got into the garage, surrounded by police detectives but could not.
Her body froze, trying to distance itself from what she did recall, the cold steel of the hand cuffs, the loud click as they closed, biting into her wrists, restricting her freedom. She tried taking deep breaths to keep the panic at bay.
The rest was a blur. She did not know if the thought of JK calling her name and running alongside the car was real or a fantasy she had created to deal with what was happening.
She tossed and turned on the hard, cold bunk, no way to get comfortable, no way to escape the memories of the parade of men asking her questions.
They came nonstop, concerned, kind, bored, threatening, all insisting on answers she did not have.
No, she did not take the documents.
No, she did not send the emails.
No, she did not help someone hack into the system.
