“No one’s dead,” Seo Tae-joon said, his voice strained. “Ji-woo, are you all right?” He was the one who looked far from all right; his body was a fresh map of cuts and bruises.
“Seo Tae-joon,” Ji-woo whispered, her own voice weak. “You should have fought back.”
Guilt settled in her chest, heavy as a stone. She’d forgotten that he took her words as gospel, that he would follow her every instruction to the letter. This was her fault. She had
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