The room kept going around them.
Yesterday morning. The blackout.
Yesterday evening. The strange feeling she got from the person sitting behind her. The note. The woman in the corridor who hadn't waited around to be seen.
Soorin thought about the handwriting. Small and neat. The way she had stood in the restroom holding the paper and felt almost certain she recognized it before she talked herself firmly out of it. Because Jiwon was in prison. Because that was not possible. Because she needed to get through the evening and she could not afford to fall apart in a bathroom in Tokyo over a feeling.
She had talked herself out of it.
She should not have talked herself out of it.
