A fist smashed on the polished wooden surface of the desk and everyone in the room jumped up surprised.

"What do you mean you're facing difficulties?" the blond man growled, his manners taking off the window.

"Sir, here is a police department! You can't—"

Leaning closer to the officer, the blond narrowed his eyes and slowly repeated his question. The policeman gulped and quickly shook his head. 

"I told you! What clues we have in our disposal so far, led up there! And then nothing..."

He scoffed and straightened his body, running his fingers through his already messy hair. He briefly glanced at the woman silently sitting on one of the available chairs, her calm features making a small muscle twitch above his right eye. A deep breath to calm himself, slowly letting it go through his nose. 

"How can you not be able to find out which flight he took?" 

The officer cleared his throat and avoided answering right away, too absorbed into fixing his papers scattered here and there after that menacing person had burst inside the small room. The gears in his brain frantically turning, checking if there were excuses in store, explanations as to why Hyukjae´s car had been found parked in its garage as always.

"He used the company's name to book a flight and everything is registered under districts and then departments. He's not the only one who flew that day and so, it's almost impossible to find his exact number of flight!"

"Almost doesn't mean one hundred percent..." the other man murmured.

His glare made the policeman uncomfortable once again and he turned his head away, focusing on the middle-aged woman instead.

"Mrs. Lee, I apologise for our incompetence. We'll try harder."

He stood up and bowed to her, walking past the blond and then leaving the room, his excuse barely audible.

"Is your curiosity satisfied yet, Mr. Park?"

He ignored her contumelious remark and neared the young woman slouched on another chair. He examined her form, her hunched up shoulders and arms folded on her lap indicating her resignation. 

"Tiffany..."

His hand on hers made her rise her head, the pair of bloodshot eyes saddening him more.

"Is there really no hope?" her voice trembled, diamond tears forming on the corners of the dark brown orbs.

Feeling the cold look the woman was giving them, the blond wrapped an arm protectively around the girl and pulled her head to his chest, letting her cry silently, faint sobs shaking her body.

"Jungsoo oppa...what if we don't find him..."

"Shh..."

A question everyone was asking themselves every single day. Or better, almost everyone. His eyes shot daggers as the older woman snorted and took a tiny hand mirror out from her designer bag, checking if a hair had escaped from her perfectly styled head. Nodding satisfied at her reflection, she made a little noise of disgust directed to the girl as she noticed her tears mixing with the colours on her painted eyelids, dark grey streams marking her sunken cheeks.

"Oh, please. It's not like news about his death arrived yet."

"Yet?"

His chest felt like a vice had him gripped. Jungsoo could only stare at her, not finding the correct phrases to express his own disgust. He tightened his hold around the girl, thankful for the fact that she was now crying too loud to register the venomous words flowing from that woman's mouth, Hyukjae's mother.

The door opened and the nervous officer re-entered, his bow clearly directed to Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Lee only. Smiling pleased at him, she zipped her bag in one sudden motion.

"Now, where were we?" 

They had agreed to meet for lunch, the four of them. A silent agreement that arrangement was, something the events of the past months had deemed necessary.

"Two months..."

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