During his years as an assistant detective, Lee Minho has seen many examples of human cruelty and every time he thought that nothing would surprise him, but he was wrong. It had been six months since he had become a detective himself, and not much has changed since then. For every ten standard major crimes, there was one particularly sophisticated one that made even seasoned cops' blood run cold. Minho was aware that being a detective meant being a participant in the drama as well as an observer and required him to look not only the perpetrators but also the victims in the eye, which often caused him to struggle internally.

Minho approached the shivering girl sitting on the edge of the open back of the ambulance with a plaid over her shoulders. Her face reflected the lights of the flashing police cars, but she was staring at one point with a look he was familiar with, one he'd seen more than once in completely different people. The blank stare, the silence. People passing by don't realise that behind this outward indifference to everything around her lies a real storm. That silence always speaks louder than any words.

Hi. Sitting down next to the girl softly said Minho. I need to ask you a few questions, how are you feeling? I know it's really hard for you right now, but maybe you could talk to me a bit?