CHAPTER 17
The next several days all blur into one another as I meet with Mr. Kim, who wants to go over every single sentence I wrote during my initial interrogations. The only thing he doesn’t seem to dwell on is my statement that I was drugged and smuggled over the border. I know the official line is that I’m some sort of crazed journalist with a death wish who decided to take my life into my hands and sneak into North Korea. I hope people back home aren’t really buying that bologna.
Hee-Man, also known as my new soulmate (at least as far as he’s concerned), hangs out with us during the majority of our interviews, barely speaking unless it’s to encourage me to elaborate a little bit more. The rare times he goes out to do a little shopping or sight-seeing, I have to admit I miss him. I
