Chapter 22.1

Chapter 22.1

In Heejin’s bank records, there was a large sum of 200 million that came in, but there was no trace of how or where it was spent. In the first place, if there had been such evidence, the police would have concluded that her sister died because of debt.

Receiving 200 million in cash and spending it in cash? Why on earth? For what reason?

No matter how much she tried to recall, Heejin had never shown any signs of struggling with money in front of her. The sisters had been earning their own living, and while they weren’t wealthy, they were making enough to get by. She had even taken on more than five autopsies a day, working like crazy to make that happen.

Although it might not be directly related to her sister’s death, she couldn’t shake off that something was amiss. It felt grim and uncomfortable.

Heeju leaned back in the chair and picked up the notebook. It was a handwritten treatment record that she had accidentally discovered during her last visit, written by her sister.

She opened the notebook with the hope of finding even the smallest clue. The elongated, neat handwriting matched her sister’s writing style exactly, just as she remembered.

The treatment dates, names of patients, their physical condition that day, and the areas of focused treatment – even the progress compared to previous treatments were meticulously and precisely documented.

Heeju sat quietly reading the treatment records. When she flipped to around the middle of the notebook, she suddenly felt something was off and looked up. She turned on the computer screen to pull up the digital records and started flipping through the notebook pages, comparing the two side by side.

“…It’s not here.”

Something was strange.

From a certain point onward, there were no treatment records for Lee Chulhyun and Kang Sungang. If they had simply stopped treatment, it wouldn’t have been strange, but unlike the meticulously recorded entries for other patients on the same dates, the records for these two were completely missing.

What the heck.

The person who kept these records no longer exists in this world, and as long as Lee Chulhyun and Kang Sungang continue to feign ignorance, she had no way of uncovering what might be hidden beneath the surface. The 200 million debt would anyway disappear in four months.

Wait a minute.

A sudden doubt surged through her.

Did her sister really have a debt?

When she was first brought here, she had seen a promissory note with her sister’s seal, but thinking about it now, it could easily have been fabricated. Was she reading too much into things?

However, from the beginning, it was suspicious that she was a doctor that didn’t have to perform any major medical procedures, yet she was being paid 40 million won every month to reduce her sister’s debt.

Heeju couldn’t help but be suspicious. As if the purpose was to keep her pinned in here.

But why…?

Just as her thoughts were about to branch out, there was a sudden thud. The notebook had fallen to the floor with a soft drop. Heeju bent down to pick up the notebook. As she leaned forward, she froze.

Her gaze landed on the bottom of the bookshelf. There was a long vertical line that looked unusual. It resembled the shape of a hinge typically used on a door. Heeju looked at the opposite side, feeling puzzled, and noticed that something was different.

“…….”

She looked around carefully. There was a strange sense of dissonance. Why hadn’t she noticed something was off until now?

Unlike the desk, cabinet, and toolbox that were lined up against the window wall, the bookshelf stood alone in the middle of the opposite wall. When she tapped the wall, it made a hollow sound.

It was an empty space. From the corridor, there had been only one door leading into the physical therapy room, and the treatment room itself wasn’t very large.

Heeju carefully examined the bookshelf and then grabbed it with both hands. When she pulled with force, the bookshelf that seemed immovable suddenly opened like a door with a soft click.

“Huu…”

A small sigh escaped her. Behind the wall, there was a space just large enough for one person to pass through, like a hole that had been punched out. The dark, gaping tunnel-like space ominously beckoned her to come inside.

Heeju glanced outside the break room. Then she checked her watch. The door was locked, and unless she left first, no one would be looking for her.

She turned on her phone’s flashlight and illuminated the dark interior. A steep staircase descended downward. One misstep would easily send her tumbling down to death.

Normally, her usual self would never be so foolish as to step into such a suspicious place, but… what would Ko Heejin do?

Heeju took a deep breath. Then, without hesitation, she entered. The air was thick with the foul smell of dust.