Chapter 138.2

Chapter 138.2

“He’s moving around inside, but he’s definitely in the hospital!”

“…”

“Could he be injured?”

It felt like she was driving a car with no brakes. She could stop anytime she wanted, yet the weight of the situation squeezed around her like a seatbelt that refused to budge.

Finally, she jerked the wheel and pulled over to the shoulder. Her hands trembled inexplicably, and for some reason, the sight of the hospital in the distance filled her with dread.

“Unnie, why did I hear brakes just now?”

“I’m fine. haah….”

Seoryeong took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. She quickly unlocked the handcuffs with the stolen key and stepped out of the police car. Drawing attention now would only work against her.

Especially if she wanted to spot Kim Hyun among the crowd—hidden behind an unfamiliar face.

Gripping her phone tightly, she started climbing the sloped hill toward the hospital.

“Five hundred meters ahead!”

With every quickened step, the distance closed. Following Channa’s coordinates, she widened her strides. Yet, deep down, she wanted to turn around and run the other way. Even she couldn’t make sense of her conflicting emotions.

“One hundred meters now! Head toward the back entrance!”

As she neared the hospital, she pushed her speed to the limit. Her throat felt raw, and a faint taste of blood lingered on her tongue. Her lungs stretched painfully, threatening to burst. The gap between her and Kim Hyun shrank—90, 80, 70 meters.

She felt it. If she kept running, she would catch him.

When was the last time she had felt this?

Ah! That’s right.

Back in the snowy mountains during training, when she had to catch the instructor. She had chased the sound of a bell through the freezing landscape, her vision spinning from hunger.

“Unnie, keep going straight! Twenty meters left!”

But could she really face Kim Hyun? If she saw him now, she would have to accept the undeniable truth—that “Kim Hyun” was nothing more than a product of the National Intelligence Service.

Maybe burying love beneath love was the wiser choice.

No. That’s bullshit!

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and rushed past the familiar hospital structures.

“Five meters! He’s right in front of you!”

A shiver of exhilaration shot through her, making her legs tremble.

But then—

A wall of white funeral wreaths blocked her view. Large, snow-white flower arrangements, lined up in a row, stood like an impassable barrier.

Her tongue flicked across her dry lips in frustration.

“Unnie, do you see him? Did you find him?”

Staff moved the towering wreaths one by one. The altar flowers were so densely packed that nothing beyond them was visible.

Seoryeong rose onto her toes, straining to peek through the gaps.

Then, through the cascading chrysanthemums, she finally caught sight of a man.

***

“There’s no mistaking it—he’s right in front of you!”

Channa’s voice buzzed distantly in her ears.

Everything around her slowed. People moving in a hurry suddenly froze mid-step. The surrounding noise stretched and warped as if the world itself had been muffled. Her vision blurred.

Because otherwise…

This nightmare couldn’t be real.

A sickening chill crawled up her spine.

This… this can’t be right.

Seoryeong blinked in stunned disbelief.

Channa… the man right in front of me… are you sure he’s the red dot?”

She tried to ask, but no sound came out.

Through the clusters of white chrysanthemums, she saw him.

A man sitting in a wheelchair, smiling.

His sleek, dark hair fell naturally over his forehead. His flawless skin gleamed under the sunlight.

Seoryeong stood frozen, as if nailed to a cross.

Kim Hyun… My husband… He is right in front of me.

So close—so impossibly close.

Kim Hyun is… Lee Wooshin?

This can’t be…

She had always wanted to brush her fingers over those eyebrows. The sharp ridge of his brow had captured her gaze from the start. And those eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, maybe that was her favorite part of him.

Her hands trembled violently. She couldn’t breathe. A stabbing pain squeezed her lungs as she clutched her side.

She stumbled back, crashing into one of the funeral wreaths.

Petals scattered to the ground. A pungent scent, almost like decay, filled the air.

But it wasn’t just the flowers that had been trampled.

Dressed in a white hospital gown, black slippers, and the same socks pulled up to his ankles. Lee Wooshin was tossing a ball to a group of children.

They giggled, their laughter ringing like tiny bells.

And the man, his lips curled mischievously,smiled at them.

His image burned into her vision.