It's Not Too Late
It was only when Mark agreed that I finally poked my head out.
Mark patiently asked me once again, "Where's your kidney?"
I shook my head, indicating that I didn't know.
Mark then took out his phone, saying he would investigate this matter thoroughly.
Since Mark learned about my depression, he stayed by my side these past few days, as if he were afraid I might do something drastic.
One day, I saw on the television that the rehab center had been shut down. Without a doubt, this was Mark's doing.
Under the guise of education and rehabilitation, the place was involved in dirty dealings.