"The results are pretty interesting," Jonghyun said. "He had a 0.9 BAC level and he definitely had traces of cannabis and various other drugs."

   Byunghun and Chanhee shared a look.

   "Do you guys know what the time of death was yet?" Chanhee then asked.

   There was silence from the other side of the phone, followed by muffled mumbling. “Around seven o’clock,” Jonghyun answered after a moment. “And before you guys ask…the cause of death was a combination of poisoning from mixing alcohol and drugs, and strangulation.”

   This time, there was silence on Byunghun and Chanhee’s end.

   "Uhm… Hello? You two still there?"

  "Yeah." Byunghun’s voice sounded slightly hoarse from the shouting he had just done minutes ago. "Was it— Was it really strangulation?"

   "Uh-huh. There was significant bruising to the neck, which was what made us consider it a possibility in the first place. Crazy part is that it wasn’t with wire or anything like that— someone did this with their hands.”

   "You should’ve been able to get fingerprints then, right?"

   "That’s what we thought! But the only fingerprints we found were Mr. Ahn’s."

   Chanhee paled. “His own fingerprints were on his neck?”

   "Yeah! So then we obviously checked his hands to see if we could find anything, but there wasn’t a single thing! Whoever did this was obviously well prepared. Not to mention they must’ve had amajor grudge on the guy, considering they bashed his head in after he died.”

   "That’s insane," Chanhee said softly.

   "You’re telling me," Jonghyun said. "Anyways, I gotta go help compile all this stuff into the evidence files. You can come by and pick up the official documents tomorrow. Sorry to say, but I won’t be coming to the apartment tonight, Chanhee."

   "Honestly, I doubt I will either. Good luck on your work."

   "Same to— H-Hey! Minsoo, you can’t touch that! Put that scalpel down!”

   The medical examiner hung up before Chanhee could even register what had just happened. He stared at the phone sitting on the coffee table, watching as the screen faded to black, and then raised his gaze to the map on the wall. Next to him, Byunghun hadn’t moved a muscle since the reveal of the narcotics testing.

   They sat in silence, eyes locked onto the photo of Seo Joohyun. Her innocent, doe-like eyes stared right back at them.

***

   Neither investigator did any more work that night. Byunghun returned to his room and Chanhee remained out on the couch, and they quickly fell asleep with the intention of waking up in a few hours to get to the station right as it opened.

   When Byunghun woke up, the sky was pink and purple and navy blue; the sun was sinking down past the horizon and the world around him was spinning. He felt light as a feather and stiff as a board, but at the same time he felt like he had to move. As he began to sit up, his breathing grew ragged and a dull pain appeared suddenly in his head.

   "It was scary," a voice, sounding far off and near at the same time, murmured, "but at the same time, part of me was saying, ‘What’s there to be scared about? Everything is fine.’"

   Byunghun swayed slightly, clutching onto the armrests of his seat for support. The leather felt sticky under his fingers, and there was a sweet tinge to the air. He blinked furiously, trying to get the world to stop spinning, but the pain in his head and the burning in his lungs was making it hard to focus. A wave of nausea suddenly hit him, and there was no holding it back. He leaned forward, forehead pressed against the dashboard as he gagged and dry-heaved and nothing but air tasting sour and thick and hot came out.

   "I wish I could remember. Changhyun says not remembering is normal, though. It’d be weird to remember anything after you’re dead, after all."

   The wave had passed. He grimaced and looked up through the windshield at the darkening sky (or was that his sight darkening?). The psychic was finding the burning in his chest unbearable. He gasped for air, but couldn’t seem to get anything into his lungs. He gripped the armrests tighter as a tightening pressure started around his neck. Despite the assault, he remained calm (or as calm someone dying could be).

   "You’re sure handling this better than me. Although… I guess you’re not dying for real."

   Byunghun managed a lop-sided grin. He turned his head to the drivers side of the door, and as his vision began to darken, he saw Ahn Daniel. Eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed, and shoulders tense— His eyes softened as he realized Byunghun could see him.

   "Sorry I gave you the full ride last time," Ahn Daniel said meekly. "I didn’t— It wasn’t what I— I just— I’m…sorry. And thank you."

   He couldn’t do anything but nod as his vision continued to dim until the lights flickered out. And then he was cold, freezing cold, and he curled farther into a ball and tangled himself up in the blankets—

   Blankets.

   Byunghun sat straight up in bed, taking in a long and well-deserved inhale of precious air. He took a moment to calm himself down, and then checked the clock sitting beside his bed. Two o’clock, which meant he’d only been asleep for ten minutes or so.

   He sighed, laying down and curling back into a ball, into the safety of his numerous blankets.