Despite several pointed and graphic warnings, the parents felt like they had been hit by a hammer seeing their little girl in this state. Yes, she was twenty eight years old, but some things will never change, Wendy was still their little girl. And always would be.

  Jeong-Hui clutched Sung-Hoon’s forearm so tight that several hours ter, she would have left a bruise the size of her hand. Much, much ter, he would tell her that he took a photo of it and would use it in court as evidence of abuse if she ever tried to divorce him. He didn’t.

  Seulgi softly nudged them out of the doorway and towards their incapacitated daughter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw their shadow running back to the nurse’s desk. Presumably to tell whomever is in charge what room these people went to. No reasonable staff would want these people wandering around on their floor. So, knowing where they were was a smart move. Medical staff at any level were rarely stupid. Of course, there are some exempry examples to the contrary, but mostly they are smart, caring people.

  Seulgi was sublimely uncaring about any of this at the moment. She wanted the parents to talk to their child. He went to one side, still reading the chats. She went to the other side. She would have physically dispced Katie if she had not moved on her own viotion. As it was, she gave a gnce and a nod of thanks to the young woman who moved before being asked to.

  Both Jeong-Hui and Sung-Hoon’s approach was simple. They would first ask for something. Then they would demand something. Then they would Make Things Happen. So, when Jeong-Hui was just about to ask Katie to move Katie had already moved before needing to be asked. Katie was young, but she was not stupid.

  Sung-Hoon, still standing despite the chair Seulgi brought over, was reading the st of the chart with his hand on Wendy’s shoulder. When he finished the charts, he noticed the chair, nodding thanks to Seulgi. He sat down and did the first truly human thing and started stroking Wendy’s hair.

  Jeong-Hui sat in the rapidly emptied chair next to the bed. She had a surreal moment where she thought about how the chair was still warm. Then gave total concentration to her daughter. She patiently waited for her husband to finish reading and transting all of that gobbledygook into Human so she could understand.

  While waiting for him to get done, Seulgi and Katie stood discretely against the wall, both doing their best to disappear into the background, so neither bothered the others. Seulgi put a comforting arm around the younger woman, who in turn id her head against the other’s shoulder.

  And so, Sung-Hoon did exactly that. He methodically detailed everything from the crown of her head to the base of her feet. Every break, every bruise, every scar, everything internal and external. There was one note that was not strictly professional – there was a question about if, due to the calluses on her feet, if she was a professional dancer, too. Despite the seriousness of the situation, that brought a small smile to everyone there.

  For about twenty minutes they cooed at their unconscious daughter, petting her, stroking her head, and all the things that parents do to comfort their children.

  Without looking up or stop moving, he said: “You were there?”

  Startling her, Katie snapped to attention, as if a teacher caught her napping. She responded, “Yes, sir.”

  “What exactly happened?”

  So, for the next hour, Katie was questioned. He was as exacting as the police were. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, everything was questioned. He even managed to tease out a few things that the police detectives missed.

  Seulgi wanted to stop him a few times. The younger woman was obviously upset at seeing what happened, making her relive it again and again is also hard on her, especially in this great of detail. The only thing that stopped her from stopping him was the tiny head shake from Jeong-Hui. She knew his methods. They would take care of her after he got the information that he wanted.

  Once done, he repced the charts outside in the holder by the door.

  After the interrogation was done, She got up while He mulled over the information. She went over to the younger woman, gave her a very quick hug, and then said, “Sorry to put you through that. But the information is desperately needed from a first-hand source. Thank you.” She then sat back down and started filling in her unresponsive daughter on all the local gossip of things and friends going on back in Canada. Who did this, what happened to them, and you’ll never guess who got pregnant without being married first! Do you remember that boy you used to have a crush on? He got married. He married that homophobic ex-jock who always harassed him.

  Even while thinking deep thoughts, he never stopped holding her hand. Even in the deepest, bckest thoughts, he never stopped loving his little girl. He knew that while she was not currently with them, she knew that her parents were there for her. He never doubted it.

  Seulgi nudged Katie to go get some water for them. All of the talking the parents were doing was bound to make them parched. After a bit, Katie did one better and brought a tray with four cups and a craft of ice water. She poured everyone a cup. The parents nodded thanks without breaking their respective monologs.

  She poured Seulgi and herself cups, too. Handing her cup over to Seulgi, she received a warmer thanks. The parents couldn’t be considered rude at this moment. Katie was, again, young but smart. She would not take offense to anything that they said to her for a while. She may have had to surreptitiously wipe some sweat earlier, but she was otherwise fine.

  Time passed. For the next several hours there was an uncomplicated dance going on around Wendy. Someone would vacate a seat to get up, walk around, go to the restroom, whatever and someone would fill the vacated seat. The water was never below the mid-way level before someone, mostly Katie, would refill it. Wendy was never alone. Someone, including Katie, was always there, talking to or touching her.

  About three hours into the vigil, the attending doctor came in on his rounds. Fortunately for the man, he was just the on-call, not the attending physician. This poor man was about to get grilled, but not roasted. The person in charge of her treatment was going to get eviscerated, roasted, and then served up for dinner. He was displeased with several things on his daughter’s treatment charts.

  The next round of interrogations was about to begin.