I think my drunken state got me in trouble.  I’m in a strange room, probably another woman’s.

My pounding headache reminded me of my heavy drinking, of my fight with Chaerin months ago and of the reality that she’s never coming back. Or at least that’s what I thought.

Chaerin.

Her memory made my heart ached with precision, almost a routine.

I wanted to shout, to break something, to die.

But a knock on the door brought me back.

“Good morning Mr. Choi, time for your medication.”

I panicked, and it was then I felt the binds around my arms.