As Ha-rin leaned her head against the table, exhausted, Min-ji turned away to wash her hands. The sound of the running water was steady, a domestic hum that almost made Ha-rin forget the photo of the corpse sitting just inches away. Min-ji didn't look back; she just kept scrubbing a spot on the counter that was already clean.

"You know," Min-ji said, her voice a bit muffled by the sound of the tap. "I was looking at your school photos today on the bulletin board. The ones from the festival last year? You were wearing that white dress. I must have stood there for ten minutes just... looking. I mean, everyone does, obviously. You're... you. You're like a different species compared to the rest of us."

Ha-rin let out a dry, shaky laugh, staring into her tea. "I'd give anything to be a picture on a wall right now. Pictures don't have to deal with the police or whatever is happening with Doh-yun. They just stay perfect and frozen."

Min-ji turned off the water. The silence that followed was heavy. She dried her hands, wiping them over and over on a thin, frayed towel until her knuckles were pink. She walked over and stood awkwardly behind Ha-rin's chair. She didn't lean in like a movie villain; she just stood there, looking unsure of where to put her hands, her shadow stretching long across the table.

"I don't think you'd like being a picture," Min-ji whispered. She reached out, her fingers hesitant, and touched a strand of Ha-rin's hair. It was a weirdly intimate gesture, the kind of thing a lonely girl does when she thinks she's finally found a best friend but doesn't understand boundaries. "I noticed you do this."

Min-ji mimicked the motion of tucking hair behind the left ear. She did it a bit too slowly, making it look clumsy and strange. "And you always tug your sleeves when the teacher calls on you. I noticed it during the midterm exams. I practiced it in the mirror this morning. I thought... maybe if I acted more like you, people wouldn't look through me like I'm made of glass. Maybe they'd actually see me."

Ha-rin shivered. It wasn't a threat; it was just a desperate, awkward confession that made her skin crawl. "Why would you want to act like me, Min-ji? My life is a disaster. My dad... everything is a lie."

"Because even when your life is a disaster, people still care what you think," Min-ji said, her voice full of a strange, quiet admiration. "If I disappeared, no one would notice for a week. But if you have a bad day, the whole school talks. I wanted to know what that felt like. To be... important."

Min-ji walked to her closet and pulled out a school blazer. It was Ha-rin's—the one from the elevator. It smelled intensely of cherry blossom spray, a scent that was almost sweet enough to make Ha-rin gag.

"I cleaned it for you. I used a whole bottle of spray because the elevator smell was so stubborn. I wanted it to be perfect," Min-ji said, holding it out with a hopeful, shy look. "Try it on? I want to see if you look like the 'Ice Queen' again. You look so small right now, Ha-rin-ah. You need to look like yourself if you're going to survive this."

A sudden, sharp knock at the door made Ha-rin jump so hard the tea splashed onto her hand. Her eyes flew to the Polaroid on the table.

"Hide," Min-ji whispered. Her face went pale, and she looked genuinely panicked, like a child about to get caught stealing. She snatched the Polaroid, shoved it into the pocket of Ha-rin's blazer, and pushed the jacket into Ha-rin's arms. "It's probably the detectives. If they see you here... after you ran away from the park... they'll think you and Doh-yun are working together. They already suspect the pretty girls, Ha-rin. Please, just hide."

Min-ji pointed to the tiny, cramped bathroom. Ha-rin scrambled inside and locked the door just as she heard the front entrance open. The bathroom smelled strongly of bleach, the fumes making Ha-rin's eyes water in the dark.

"Detective Yoon," Min-ji's voice was high-pitched and shaking. "I... I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I found a receipt, Min-ji," Yoon's voice was tired, echoing in the small room. "Bleach. Industrial wrap. At nearly four in the morning during a blackout. That's a very specific list for a high school girl to be buying in the dark."

"My dad... he's a plumber," Min-ji stammered. Ha-rin could hear her shifting her weight, her shoes squeaking on the linoleum. "He was working on a burst pipe at a client's house. He needed the supplies to stop the leak from ruining the floors. Why are you being so mean to me? Is it because I'm just an average student? You wouldn't talk to Ha-rin like this."

There was a long, suffocating silence. Ha-rin leaned her ear against the door, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"I'm not being mean, Min-ji. I'm being a detective," Yoon said, his voice closer to the bathroom now. "Where is she? I know she didn't go through the lobby after her date."

"She went home to her parents," Min-ji lied, her voice cracking. "She was crying. She said the date was scary and she just wanted to sleep in her own bed. Why are you looking for her here? I'm just her neighbor."

Yoon sighed, a heavy sound that made Ha-rin flinch. "Tell her that hiding won't change what the weight sensors saw, Min-ji. And tell your dad I'll be asking for that client's address."

The door finally clicked shut.

Ha-rin slumped against the bathroom wall, her legs giving out. She reached into the blazer pocket and felt the stiff, cold edge of the Polaroid. She realized she had just allowed an awkward, lonely girl to lie to the police for her. She had let Min-ji become her shield.

But as she sat there in the dark, she looked at her own hands. She realized she wasn't just hiding from a detective—she was losing the ability to tell where the thread of her own life ended and Min-ji's stories began. The "Ice Queen" was gone, and in her place was someone who was starting to find comfort in the very girl who was keeping her secrets.