𝘖𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 | JJK |

3

After a thorough examination back at her home, Heiran was sure of only three things about the notebook she held in her hand: it belonged to a man whose initials were J.J.S, the man had lost his wife/lover, he used the journal during the time frame of 2011 to 2012.

Everything else written in the journal was of questionable credibility. For the most part, it held a series of phone numbers, company names, license plate numbers, and names without any explanation. Some pages held paragraphs of information he had collected from his supposed expeditions to find the "truth." Still, others contained his most guilt-ridden thoughts and regrets. Heiran breezed through the leaves to the very last page that held the longest entry of all. The journal was a physical representation of a man's descent into madness. Only, Heiran wasn't sure how much of it was madness and how much of it was real.

Sep. 17, 2012

They call themselves the Garden Helpers. But they shouldn't be trusted.

Daffodil Clinic is a scam! I've seen their ways. I've been watching them. Not all of the people who go to the clinic with an illness leave there alive. They choose their prey well. Poor and desperate. Bad family relations. Single women. People who don't have anyone to come looking for if they disappeared into thin air. People who don't draw attention, people who are invisible. They are the ones who are targeted.

They are manipulated into signing the organ donor form. They give them medication that makes them sick and addicted. They continue the treatment until the patient's heart fails.

Or maybe that's a lie. Perhaps, they kill them.

They didn't let me see her. They didn't allow me a glimpse. She died cold, all alone, in that horrible place. If I had known...

If only I had known.

They said her heart stopped. They said it was an illness. I don't believe them!

The pills they gave her. I have stolen a few. I don't trust those. I think it's the pills. They don't make you better. They make you addicted to them. They make you go insane. Just like she did.

The organs they take are not going to the right place. I followed them. It's the black market. It's for the wealthy who can pay the right price. Daffodil shouldn't be the only clinic. I'm sure there's more. I am sure this is a chain.

I need proof.

I'm sorry, Sukie.

Something about the desperation that seeped from every word in the book, the immeasurable guilt and regret, and the anger behind each scribbled name sent a shiver down her spine.

Where was the owner of this journal now? Did he find out the truth he yearned for? Did he get the proof?

A quick Naver search on Daffodil Clinic brought up some old photos of a moderate-sized building from Busan that was no longer in business. The few articles she found related to them contained nothing relevant. Heiran sighed, rubbing her temples.

It was obvious that JJS's attempts to expose the clinic had failed. She wondered how far she could believe the journal. Was it even possible that everything written there was the truth and not some insanity of a grieving man?

Clearly, Jungkook thought otherwise. Jeon Jungkook believed that something about this was worth investigating even if the incident was over a decade old, and the chances that he could possibly acquire any evidence to prove that the clinic was a scam and catch the people responsible for it was next to nothing. Heiran absentmindedly stroked a strange bump on the cover of the journal when a possibility struck her mind.