To a Treacherous Stranger

A classmate made obscene photos of her. “What do you need, student?” The man she met for the first time at the police station opened with that question. “I… don’t need money, sir.” “Sir,” when Park Chigyeong repeated the word to himself, his expression subtly changed. She caught the slight furrow of his brow. “I heard that’s what people call prosecutors. Did it… offend you?” Exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke, he smiled faintly. Was that a smile of annoyance or amusement? Taeri couldn’t help but wonder. “But why have you been acting so bold since earlier?” Park Chigyeong, who had been casually exchanging nods with the detectives passing by, took a step closer. “Student. Do you fi...