His eyes were all red. His breath reeked of alcohol. He approached me with the document in his hand. A transparent plastic file contains a person's case report information. My name is in the patient column. It was six months ago.
"I saw the video from Santa Maria Hospital," he said, word by word, "I saw us together. It turned out that we not only knew each other, but we were close. But you told me you didn't know me at all. Why?"
The truth will be found out one day, and the deep-buried secret will be found out sooner or later. I unconsciously stepped back until my back hit the wall. How do I explain this to him?
"Tell me." His voice was full of authority. "How can you lie to me?"
"We have nothing to do with each other," I said calmly. "Those videos don't mean anything."
He stared at me, as if his eyes were piercing through me. His breath became heavy, like a lion about to explode.
