The Chronicle Mag lobby was all glass and noise, with heels clicking and assistants whispering like crazy. When the revolving doors whooshed open, it was like all the air got sucked out.
Min-Hee was leaning hard on Seo-Yoon, a blanket around her shoulders like a sad cape. A streak of dried blood ran from her hair to her cheek, and her coat was stained with dark, wet grime. She looked like she'd walked straight out of a war and into a fancy party.
“Min-Hee, we have to stop this,” Seo-Yoon said, holding her steady. “Look at you. You're shaking. The doctor's in my office; let him at least—”
“No,” Min-Hee cut her off. Her voice was flat and final, stopping Seo-Yoon cold. Min-Hee looked at her friend, her eyes too bright. “If I go to a hospital, they'll say I'm broken. If I go on TV, they'll
