The touch of the white mug brought a pleasant warmth, distinct from the humid summer air—a warmth that resonated with a deeper resolution. Cautiously, Yi-soo took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through her body, easing her tension.
Hyun-seong settled comfortably on a single-person couch, crossing his legs as he watched Yi-soo intently. Breaking the tense silence, he finally spoke, “So, what happened?”
Yi-soo brought the mug to her knee and took a sip, trying to compose herself after the unexpected and unsettling incident. “Ah… I felt like someone was following me. Since lunchtime today, I’ve had this feeling. I didn’t see who it was, but… it felt like someone was following me in the alleys all the way here.”
“Following you?” Hyun-seong’s eyes narrowed slightly. He folded his arms and asked, “Can you think of anyone who might hold a personal grudge against you?”
She hesitated before answering, “I can’t think of anyone who would personally hold a grudge against me. But if it’s related to work at the company, maybe.”
“You mean the defendants you prosecuted?”
“Yes. It’s not just one or two people, so it’s hard to narrow down.”
Yi-soo fidgeted with her fingers, visibly discomforted. Her pale face reflected the seriousness of the situation. Experiencing something she had only heard about from her senior colleagues was not something she anticipated.
“No prosecutor goes without experiencing stalking,” Yi-soo shared, her voice tinged with unease. She recounted a story she had heard from colleagues during a meal, how even their director had faced frequent stalking when he was in court. Defendants often harbored resentment towards prosecutors, especially if the prosecutor happened to be a young woman, which emboldened them to target her, assuming she was an easy target.
“My previous supervising prosecutor experienced it a few times during her trainee days,” Yi-soo continued. “They faced punishment under the revised stalker law, but she still lived in fear, worrying if they would seek revenge after their sentence was over.”
The role of a prosecutor was to ensure that defendants were held accountable for their crimes. However, no matter how just their actions might be, some defendants felt they were being pushed too hard, leading to malicious intentions and stalking.
Having heard about such incidents before, Yi-soo had felt uneasy, but experiencing it herself now made her heart race uncontrollably. The mere thought of someone watching her every move and following her sent shivers down her spine. As she shared her story, Hyun-seong listened attentively, occasionally rubbing his temple with his fingertips.
“Once it’s daylight, report it to the police right away. They can check the CCTV around the prosecutor’s office and the alleys. Also, see if there are any recent cases where the defendants’ sentences have expired,” Hyun-seong advised.
Yi-soo nodded in agreement. “I guess that’s what I should do.”
“If necessary, I’ll assign Secretary Kang to help you. It’s better to be cautious until we can identify the culprit. After all, anyone stalking a prosecutor is not in their right mind,” Hyun-seong said.
As he got up from the sofa, Yi-soo couldn’t help but feel grateful that he had met her at the entrance earlier. Although not one to express affection overtly, she sensed his genuine care for her.
She stared at Hyun-seong, who appeared lost in his own contemplations. Memories from four years ago resurfaced in Yi-soo’s mind, reminding her of how he had been there for her back then as well.
Taking another sip of the lukewarm lemon tea, Yi-soo placed the mug on the coffee table. She wanted to share the incident of the day, even though Hyun-seong probably wouldn’t remember it.
“Attorney Yoon,” she began.
“What?”
“You went to Korea University for your undergrad, and then to law school.”
Instead of answering, Hyun-seong raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.
Yi-soo chuckled softly, finding comfort as she leaned against the back of the sofa. The warmth of the tea seemed to soothe her, bringing a sense of peace to her heart, despite the day not being particularly enjoyable.
“Actually, we’ve met before. During law school. Only once, though.”
With her gaze lowered, she began to recount a fleeting moment that she had long kept hidden in the depths of her memory.