**Two Hours and Twenty-Seven Minutes Until Showtime**
The interrogation room was small and sterile—nothing like the glamorous spaces Park Sora was accustomed to. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows that made her perfect makeup look garish, almost mask-like. She sat at a metal table across from two detectives, her designer handbag clutched in her lap like a shield.
Min-Hee watched through the one-way mirror, her arms crossed tight across her chest. She shouldn't be here—Chief Park had only allowed it because Sora had specifically requested her presence, claiming she'd talk more freely if Min-Hee could hear.
"For the record," the lead detective said, a tired-looking woman in her forties named Detective Choi, "state your full name."
"Park Sora." Her voice was small,
