PREVIEW
... hing was wrong.
Not because the bed was too soft or too firm –actually, it felt like he was lying on a haybales. Not because of the quiet–he'd fallen asleep to the soft, constant hum of Seoul traffic, and now there was only... birds.
But because he was staring at a ceiling made of wood. Old, splintered, spider-webbed wood.
And not the "vintage café" kind.
What the hell...?
He sat up so fast his back popped. The room looked like it'd been pulled out of a co ...
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