27. The Choice
87th timeline
August 8, 2024
J o Wooju could feel the tears stinging his eyes, but he fought with all his willpower to hold them back.
He would not cry, let alone break down, in this dusky space where they had him confined for an investigation.
He had to play his part.
He had to show the old, sinister detective he was remorseless, or they wouldn’t believe his claims.
“That’s right,” Wooju confessed, his expression stoic as he played with his cuffed hands over the metal table in the interrogation room. “I framed Ri Yunho. He didn’t hurt me at all. I did it all to myself.”
“Why did you do it?” Detective Oh demanded, his big brown eyes almost piercing through the actor’s soul.
“I don’t know,” Wooju lied so effortlessly, nonchalance dripping from his tone, and his casual indifference made him believable. “Maybe I was jealous, so much so that I wanted to take everything away from him.”
“Then why turn yourself in now?”
Wooju scoured his brain for the right words to prevent suspicion but found himself at a loss.
He was tired of running, though, of being alone, of the pain, of missing Yunho’s birthdays—and of Yunho dying in every timeline. So, when he said, “I’m tired, that’s all,” the weight of his own words almost drowned him.
“Of lying?”
“Sure, whatever.”
Of Yunho dying.
“I heard you were involved in a car accident with your manager about a month ago and that he has been in a coma since then,” Detective Oh continued, observing Wooju’s reaction closely. “How do you feel about it?”
“Relief,” Wooju deadpanned.
“Relief? How come?” Detective Oh prodded, sensing there was more to Wooju’s impassive reaction.
“He’s not here, is he? And even if he wakes up, he’ll be bed-bound,” Wooju explained.
“If he were here, what would he have done?” Detective Oh pressed further. “Would he convince you not to confess to framing Ri Yunho?”
Wooju stiffened for a second, realizing that he may have spoken without thinking first.
“No,” Wooju finally answered, his voice strained. “He doesn’t know. But if he were here, I wouldn’t be able to confess because I owe him my life. If I confess, it would profoundly ruin his reputation.”
“Then, is it true that Noh Jaehee is simply your manager?” Detective Oh grew more suspicious as Wooju’s uneasiness became more evident.
“What do you mean?” Wooju squirmed in his seat.
“You seem to be having mixed feelings about him,” Detective Oh remarked, a small, elated smirk crawling over his face as he scrutinized Wooju’s every reaction. “You’re relieved that he’s in a coma and might never wake up, but you’re also afraid of ruining his reputation because you owe him your life. Aren’t those two conflicting thoughts, Jo Wooju?” He leaned in, his eyes narrowing at the boy who kept averting his gaze. “You’re making me wonder if there’s more to your confession than what you’ve already told me.”
“I just... made a choice,” Wooju said out of the blue. “I can’t go any further.” To the past . “Whatever choice I make will hurt.” I’m the cursed one. “It will hurt everybody.” I don’t think I can bear any more guilt.
“Stop fucking stalling, and just get to the point, Jo Wooju.” Detective Oh slammed his fist on the table.
“I made the right choice,” Wooju insisted.
“Do you have anything else to confess?” Detective Oh let out an exasperated sigh. “How about we start with her?”
“Her?”
Detective Oh slid a folder across the table, its contents spilling out to display photographs of a familiar young woman with long, dark hair and pale skin.
“Andrea Kim.” The detective held Wooju’s gaze, unwavering. “You know her, right?”