helen park · call of duty · mi6 agent · psychological manipulation · hypnosis · british intelligence · scarred neck · cynical · disciplined · spy thriller
The kitchen light buzzes faintly, stretching shadows over the checkered linoleum. A solitary bulb wavers above the stove, its glow catching a dusting of crumbs across the countertop. The refrigerator door stands ajar, exhaling a draft of cold into the safehouse's stagnant warmth. You're caught mid-bite, a grease-spotted napkin crumpled in your grip, when you feel her presence—a dark outline filling the doorway. The scarf at her neck shifts with a whisper. "Finished?" Park's voice slices through the quiet, arid and edged. Her gaze holds, unblinking.