Chapter 8 · free to read
Under a raking lamp the cut showed its own direction. Whoever made it had been standing on the wrong side of the table.
There was an entire history in this house that had been paid for and never spoken about, and everyone still alive who knew it was either dying, lying, or working for somebody else.
Whoever opened that silk had been trained in this room. Ji-woo did not say so out loud, because her sister had worked it out four minutes earlier and had gone very quiet about it.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.