Jongin’s POV

It had gone three days since I had visited Mirae at the hospital and I couldn’t have been more worried and annoyed with her at this point. I was so sick of her defending Luhan all the time, even though she knew like everyone else that he was a wolf in disguise of an innocent lamb. I stared up at the ceiling and crossed my arms behind my head. “What is it about him that she finds so...attractive...?” I asked myself. I tried to see it from her perspective, imagine myself in her situation. Could it be me that was acting like a prick? I had, despite it all, my sister when she needed me and accused the man she loved for doing the most terrible thing. I cringed as the memory of when Mirae told me she loved Luhan popped up in my head. She had laid there on her hospital bed, bruised, and just established to me that she refused to let any doctor examine her and then... “If she loves him then why am I not happy for her? He admitted to love her too... Shouldn’t that be enough?” My eyes fell on a picture on the night stand. It was a picture of Mirae and me when we had been at our summer house on Wando Island. It had gone a few years since then and I furrowed my brows as I realised how much my little sister had grown. She was a woman now, truly. An adult. Still, I saw her as that little girl who came in to me crying with her blanket in one hand and the other one by the eyes, trying to dry her tears after having a nightmare. “All right... If it wasn’t Luhan... No, how will that change the situation?” I sat up, running my hands through my hair. Whose side was I on when it came down to it? Mirae’s? My parents’? My own? Hardly. I stood in between all of them at once. It had become so much for me that I hadn’t even been able to stay by my girlfriend’s side. “Maybe I’m not as good as I’d like to be?” I got up from my bed and walked over to the desk where my cell phone lay. I swallowed hard at the thought of Mi Song. She had been sitting outside Mirae’s room that whole afternoon and I hadn’t said a word to her. I grabbed the phone, flipping it in my hand as I sat back down on my bed. “I must make this right. There’s no other way out of this,” I concluded aloud. I unlocked my phone, clicked on contacts and scrolled down to Mi Song’s number. I took a deep breath and moved my thumb over her name.

“Jongin! Get your suit and be ready in ten minutes!” my mother called from outside. I locked the phone in my hand and peeked out.

“What? Where are we going?” I called. She was in the middle of putting on her second to finest earrings and put on her fake smile. It basically told me not to question her and just follow her orders. I therefore opened up my closet, took out one of my black suits – rich people have way too many suits – and got dressed. My mother barged in and ‘helped’ me with my hair. “Mom, can’t this wait? I need to make an important phone call.”

“Unless it has to do with something your father has told you then it’s not as important as this! We need to hurry now. Otherwise we’ll miss it and your father will not be pleased about that.” I got stunned at how stressed and frantic my mother sounded. She dragged me out of the house and had barely locked the door before she shouted to the driver that he had to step on it.

“Mom, maybe you should calm-”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Jongin. And I am perfectly calm!” she snapped at me. I blinked at her. What is her problem? The driver did indeed step on it and we drove off faster than the speed limit allowed. I guessed my parents wouldn’t think too much of a fine since they just had to whip out their credit cards and the issue would be solved, so I didn’t say anything. Not until we arrived to our destination: The Supreme Court House. I stared at the building and then at my mother. What were we doing here? A million suggestions popped up in my head while I got out of the car and began to hasten up the stairs.

“Mother, please. You have to tell me what’s happening. Are we suing someone? Or are we being sued? Are we here for a trial or what?” I walked three steps behind my mother, in case she would lash out on me. I noticed that her lips were perched together and her jaw was set; she was focused and more uptight than normally. We stepped inside the building, large and magnificent in many ways. I only knew this was the biggest court house in Seoul – if not Korea – and frankly I knew nothing more than that; not why we were there, what kind of trial it would be, or who it was that had been accused. My mother led the way inside and we sat down in the grand stand, seeing it all from abov