The blankets shifted and wrinkled as she tossed and turned from her place on the floor.  Sweaty locks of hair framed her face as she struggled against the invisible enemy.  Waking with a jolt, she quickly sat up, her pulse quick in her veins, her heartbeat racing in her chest and pounding in her ears.  Without a second thought, she clambered to her feet and stepped to her door.  Her hand on the handle, she turned it and opened it to see a very awake-looking Minwoo mid-step in the hallway.

He seemed startled by her sudden appearance in the hall and spoke as she close the door to her room with a small click:

"Are you okay?" he asked.  She nodded, lying, and continued on her way to the kitchen.  He joined her, motioning for her to sit in a chair at the table. "What do you need?"

She searched the counter and table tops quickly for a note pad and, not finding one, passed him on the way to the refridgerator.  He stiffened as her scent passed under his nostrils, the sugary smell of a fresh vanilla bean permeating his senses.  He walked forward, as if to chase after the wonderous perfume, closing her against the refridgerator.  His hands found hers and aided in pinning her to the refrigerator.

"What do you need?" he repeated his prior question, his voice adopting an undeniably sultry undertone.  He was very close to her and her heartbeat echoed in her ears, a high ringing following it.  He kissed her ear, tucking a stray lock of onyx hair behind it.  With her now free hand, Mindeulle reached for the handle of the appliance she was pinned against, opening it only slightly.  It radiated a cloud of cold smoke that hit her spine, causing a shiver to chase its way down her body.

The cold nawed viciously against her limbs as she neared the edges of Changgnodong.  The frostbitten ground was cracked and fishered, showing the toll taken from the year's hard winter.  Her breath was visible and opaque, bursting from as she panted, fighting the burn in her legs and chest.  Slowing as she approached a dumpster, she hid in its rotten-smelling shadow.  Perking her ears, she waited for the sounds of the approaching mob. 

When she didn't hear the footsteps she had expected, she poked her head out into the dingy alleyway before her.  The sides of the buildings were painted with graphiti and profanity.  There were sirens screeching as flashing vehicles sped down the busy street.  The sobbing of a screaming woman in the distance.  Gunshots rang out from a few hundred yards away.  The woman was silent.  More gunshots.  Quiet.

Taking cover in the small crevice between the dumpster and an adjacent brick wall, the cold and quiet nibbling at her fingers and face, she fell to sleep. 

She didn't see the police officer or the beam of light from his flashlight as he stepped over the pool of blood just a few hundred yards away.  She didn't see the name on the ID of the deceased woman when the police officer searched her pockets.  She didn't see that the woman's ID showed the name of her mother.