The thing about Cheon Hae-Won was that she did not spiral. She was not the kind of girl who spiraled. She was the kind of girl who made lists, assigned priorities, and executed.
So what she was doing at her desk at seven forty-three in the morning, still in yesterday's uniform, surrounded by printouts of Essentia signature data and a cold cup of tea she had never touched, was not spiraling.
It was investigation.
Hae-Won pressed her fingertips together and stared at the readouts.
