William sat in the high-class compartment, away from the blood and investigation. He didn't need it. He didn't need any of it.
"Are you alright?" Beside him was Sun-young, an arm draped over her stomach. Ordinarily, one would assume simple exhaustion. William didn't. Her baggy eyes and sweat seemed to run much deeper than mere weariness.
"You're asking me?" William replied in a low whisper. "Sun-young, you really need to see a healer."
"I did. Marta saw me. She did everything she could. She healed me. But the wound returned anyway." Sun-young drew in an erratic breath. "I'm okay.
'I'm okay. She keeps saying that.' William pursed his lips. 'What happened when I was gone? Did Kazi lie to me? He didn't mention anything about Sun-young's injury.'
He recollected the previous Gate and winced. Tony was dead. The man William had briefly fought was murdered. He could feel waves of suspicion, not just from the others, but from himself. William knew he didn't do it, he knew that, but…
