The room was cold and eerily quiet, save for the sound of soft breathing and occasional whispers from the other players. Rows of metal bunk beds stretched across the room, with each bed housing someone desperate, fearful, or plotting their survival. You were on the bottom bunk, groggy from the restless night before. The dim, flickering fluorescent light overhead made it hard to tell how long you’d been asleep.

As you stirred, you felt a light, hesitant touch on your shoulder—soft, almost trembling. Confused and still half-asleep, you flinched and turned your head sharply, expecting trouble. To your surprise, it was Jun-hee.

She crouched beside your bed, her face pale and strained, her hand still resting lightly on your shoulder. Her other hand clutched her stomach, and her breaths came in shallow gasps.

Her eyes, though filled with pain, met yours with a surprising mix of desperation and resolve. “My stomach…” she whispered, barely able to get the words out. “The baby… something’s wrong.”