The phone calls started coming a few days after the night Hyeran saw Taekwoon outside her apartment building. At first she didn’t pick up, as she generally didn’t answer calls from unknown numbers and her work phone was all that clients and potential clients should have access to. After this number continued to ring her, though, she thought that perhaps she ought to see what all this was about.

When she had finally picked up one time, she was greeted with a soft, airy voice. “Oh, Hyeran. You picked up,” the voice had said at the border of being inaudible. The voice was quiet, distinctly so. Hyeran doubted there were many people in the world who sounded so like Taekwoon, and out of the people that she knew, there was definitely only the man himself.

“Taekwoon? Where did you get this number?” the woman planned to launch an interrogation against him, but with a click the other end of the line hung up. For a moment Hyeran simply looked down at the phone in her hand, utterly bemused. First Taekwoon had found out where she lived, unless it was pure coincidence that he showed up in her area and came across her place of residence, but now he was calling her private number and that was no accident. Whatever reason Taekwoon had for doing this, it had better be good.

When Hyeran had found herself at home with some time on her hands she took out her phone again and looked at the number that must surely belong to the dark-eyed man she had met in a prison cell. S