The sound of the car door was followed by quick, sharp footsteps on the stone path—a frantic, staccato rhythm that broke the solemn hush surrounding the traditional home. Before anyone could react, a figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the flashing police lights.

It was a woman. Her natural blonde hair was slightly disheveled, and her eyes were wide, scanning the hallway with a desperate, wild energy. She ignored the uniformed officers, her gaze sweeping past the grieving parents and landing on the two men who looked most in charge.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her voice a strained, theatrical pitch. "Where is my honey? Where is Min-jun?"

Senior Detective Jae-hyun took a calm step forward, placing himself between her and the crime scene. "Can I help you? Who are you?"

The woman looked at him as if he had just asked the most absurd question in the world. A flash of irritation crossed her beautiful, delicate features. "You don't know me? What a shame," she said, her tone laced with a practiced, wounded pride. "I am a very popular actress in the Korean film industry. I am Selena Bakker. I am here to see my husband. Please, let me see him!"

Jae-hyun’s expression remained impassive, but his eyes were calculating. He noted the performance in her plea, the way she announced her profession as if it were a key that should unlock all doors. Without a word, he simply pointed a steady finger towards the doorway of the dining room.

Selena didn't need further invitation. She rushed past him, a whirlwind of distress.

Her entrance, however, had not gone unnoticed by the outside world. A small horde of media personnel, cameras hoisted on shoulders, began to swarm towards the door, drawn by the celebrity in their midst.

Jae-hyun’s composure finally cracked. "No media!" he barked, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. He gestured sharply to the other officers. "Stop them! This is a crime scene!" The police moved quickly, forming a human barricade at the door, holding back the tide of flashing cameras and shouted questions.

Sung-min, seeing his senior's signal, followed Selena into the room. He watched as she ran to the sofa, her body trembling. She fell to her knees, her hands reaching out as if to touch her husband's lifeless face.

"Ma'am, don't touch anything!" Sung-min instructed firmly, his voice leaving no room for debate.

Selena’s head snapped up. Her eyes, which a moment before had been pools of tragic sorrow, locked onto his. They were piercing, sharp, and filled with a sudden, venomous fire. The look was a clear, unspoken challenge: Who the fuck are you to stand between me and my husband?

Sung-min felt a chill, taken aback by the sheer intensity of the hatred in that glare. But in the space of a single heartbeat, it vanished. The fire was extinguished, replaced by a soft, glistening sheen of tears. Her entire face seemed to melt into an expression of profound, kind-hearted grief. It was a transformation so swift and complete it was disorienting.

She stood up gracefully, smoothing her clothes, composing herself into the picture of a dignified, grieving widow.

"I love my husband very much," she said, her voice now a soft, trembling whisper, perfectly modulated for the cameras she knew were just outside. "Please… please find whoever did this to him."

As Sung-min watched her, a clear thought crystallized in his mind. He glanced at the family huddled in the hallway—Eun-ji weeping into Kyung-min's shoulder, Hyun-woo looking lost. Then he looked back at Selena, who stood apart from them, isolated in her performance. She has no bonding with the family, he realized. There were no shared looks of comfort, no silent understanding. Her grief was a solo act.

After a few more minutes, having ensured the scene was thoroughly documented by her personal paparazzi, Selena prepared to leave. She offered a few more choked words to a detective near the door, then swept out, the media scrum parting for her before closing ranks again and eventually dispersing in her wake.

In the sudden quiet that followed, Eun-ji approached Sung-min, her small hand clutching his sleeve. Her eyes were pleading, all pretense gone, replaced by a raw, maternal pain. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please find the killer."

As the taillights of Selena's car disappeared down the dark road, Jae-hyun moved to stand beside his junior. His gaze was fixed on the empty doorway.

"Sung-min," he said, his voice low and certain.

"Yeah, Senior?"

"Keep an eye on that one."