ǂǂǂǂǂ

The bleary white walls hauntingly echoed around her. Treading slowly down the long hallway that never seemed to end, Namjoo felt dazed. Like this might be some dream and she needed to wake up. A nurse glanced at her curiously as she passed by. Must be wondering why an officer was here this time of day. Her feet were heavy like blocks of stone weighing her down, pulling her under and under and under.

What was this state she was in? So numb. Walking slow, even slower. Up ahead in front of the ER doors an elder man turned. His face breathed relief but also with forlorn apology. Compared to the younger man beside him the elder was more composed. Namjoo knew instantly the older man had called her. He was, what, 50 something years old. Her family’s lawyer. An old acquaintance of her mother’s. A trusted friend of her father’s who’d visited many times, especially when her father was in weak health. Lawyer Kim was the one who’d persuaded her father not to take her off the family tree.

His hair had thinned even more revealing his shiny scalp when Namjoo paused farther away from them than she should have. It didn’t feel right to approach, because once she neared she might never wake up. What if she never felt anything ever again?

“Namjoo,” his voice was merely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

That was it.

Invisible walls crumbled around Namjoo. The echoing stopped. Namjoo knew she would never wake up. Namjoo froze. She didn’t move. She didn’t fall down onto her knees or cry. She just couldn’t feel anything.

The younger replica of her family’s lawyer walked toward her. “Come on, I’ll get you some water.”

Gently grabbing her arm, he led her down the hallway she’d come. Namjoo obediently followed. Few moments later she sat with him at a glossy white table not in the cafeteria but somewhere in front of the offices. It was cozy here. The rug with diamond patterns were so ugly but it was all she stared at. Beside them a small shelf of assorted magazines remained untouched. Outside the window numerous vehicles shone underneath the bright sunlight. The circulating doors moved heavily, its wheels churning against the floor with every visitor that passed through. It was any noise, any possible distraction Namjoo needed right now.

“We tried calling you,” Lawyer Kim’s son began. “Right now, you need to stay strong.”

“I am strong.” Namjoo finally lifted her eyes up to stare that the younger lawyer.

“Then, you’re going to need to listen to me,” Junmyeon told. Namjoo waited. “Your father is out of surgery. He’s been out since 3AM this morning. He’s in a coma.”

It felt just like the hospital was closing in on her. Squishing her. Suffocating her. Yet, Namjoo didn’t react. Still numb. Her skin felt like cold clay.

“If you want, my father can help with funeral arrangements but it will have to be up to you,” Junmyeon explained carefully. “Do you understand?”

“Then what happens next?” Namjoo quietly asked.

“I’ll open up a hall for the funeral and,” he went on, “you will have to decide what to do next. Do you want to bury her or cremate her body?”

“What did my father say?”

“They never decided anything,” Junmeyon said. “It was never the time to. Your family owns a burial plot. If you want to use that, I’ll make a call.”

Namjoo stared into her cup of untouched water. “I don’t know what to do.” Looking at Junmyeon this time, not as a lawyer but a friend, she begged, “Junmyeon, help me.”

ǂǂǂǂǂ

Chanyeol waited in the shadows again. Tonight, the narrow alley was abandoned. Namjoo wouldn’t be coming home, but he waited just in case. He was curious about how she was doing. It was just the news televising her mother’s accident but he also wanted to know how she was taking it. Not because he cared. If she went back home, disappeared forever from his life he might be happier knowing he would never run into her again. Or that she didn’t live so near him anymore. In this dump of a neighborhood where some prick like him could pick her lock.

Leaning against the wall while the moon waned, he continued waiting. He didn’t need to go back home any time soon. Yeorum had left while he napped. Without a word again but he knew she wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. She’d also taken his stash of money so he had nothing left now. There was no point of feeling robbed. He was upset when she first did it but as it happened more often through time he just learned to let it go. Maybe he was too passive.

He peered out into the alley again. There was no one.

Namjoo wouldn’t be coming home tonight.

ǂǂǂǂǂ

Funeral processions started almost immediately. Quiet chit-chattering filled the room along with the smell of alcohol and boiled foods. People had come to help serve food but Namjoo was not among them. After standing beside her mother’s coffin watching her father’s employees lay down one white flower after another Namjoo had had enough. Escaping out back she sat down on the stairs inhaling the night air.

“Exhausted?” Junmyeon wondered sitting down with her.

“Barely,” Namjoo said. “I haven’t cried. I can’t tell if this is considered mourning or if I’m just that awful.”

“We all grieve differently.”

Namjoo stared down at her hands. “Is it weird that I feel no attachment? It’s only been five years since I left home.”

“I think,” he assured, “you just have a lot of things to think about. You’ll cry when you need to.” They went quiet for a few minutes. Junmyeon broke the peace, “Where are you staying until the burial?”

“I haven’t thought about it,” Namjoo told.

“Come stay with my father and I,” he suggested.

Namjoo thought about it then asked, “Is there a will?”

“I heard your father wrote one in case anything happens,” Junmyeon told. “Under the circumstances, my father may have to read them to you considering your father is incapable at the moment, and we can’t tell if he’ll make it.”

Namjoo smiled bitterly. “That’s such a headache.”

“We can discuss it after your mother’s funeral,” he promised. “You may have to return home after all.”

ǂǂǂǂǂ

Home-home was dreadful so Namjoo took up Junmyeon’s offer and slept in the guest room at his house. She didn’t go to sleep right away. As she lay there she thought about what the future may hold for her. If she would be forced into the company, if she might have to bury her father as well. If she might be forever alone. Reconciliation with her used-to-be friend was impossible. Namjoo couldn’t be shameless enough to ask for forgiveness, because being a part of that incident had been her own choice. As all the regrets began sinking in Namjoo fell into a fitful sleep.

She buried her mother two days later. It should have been gloomy with cold sleet, but her mother went under with the shimmering sun almost like the way she lived so brightly. Namjoo may have shed a tear but she felt more blank than sad. If this was her grieving she was not sure. There was a blockage somewhere she couldn’t fix. Perhaps her now had to do with 5 years ago when she turned her back on everything.

She was a sinner. How could she possibly feel right?

Quietly after the burial she returned to Junmyeon’s house. Lawyer Kim would read the will to her. Then the rest would be up to her.

Seated at the shiny dining table decorated with a single vase of flowers, Namjoo stared out the floor to ceiling window. Cherry blossoms drifted from the single tree in the backyard. They lay scattered among the green ground prettily appearing like colored snow. The sky was too happy today. It was weird and it wasn’t.

Lawyer Kim’s house was too clean. Not a single particle of dust lay anywhere. No magazines or papers lying around. In the corner was a table with nothing atop. No house cleaner today. The rooms were all large and spacious but unoccupied. A lot like her own home. Rich furniture, waxed floor, eloquent designs on the plain walls, a painting here and there. Nothing much. Just a clean home of the wealthy.

“Namjoo,” Lawyer Kim walked in. He had a white envelope in his hand. Like her he hadn’t changed out of his funeral uniform. They were still in proper black. “You must be exhausted. You probably want to get this over with before returning home.”

Namjoo only smiled.

“Your father made a lot of revisions,” he explained. “He wanted to make sure that if anything were to happen to him, that you and your mother would not be left suffering. But now that the Madam isn’t here, I believe he’d want you to know about this.”

Reaching over he placed his hand over hers and looked her sincerely in the eyes, “I want you to know before we proceed onto the reading that your father loved you, no matter what. You’re his only daughter. He would have done anything, everything for you. Your mother hoped the same. They really wanted you to be happy. When you left, yes they were angry, but it broke their hearts.” Patting her hand he reiterated, “They loved you. And if your father ever wakes up, I’m sure he’d want you to know that even more.”

For the first time since becoming numb, Namjoo felt her heart thud heavily against her ribs. An ache panged through her as Lawyer Kim pulled out a papyrus paper.

“‘I, Kim Hyunseok, declare that this is my testament. This last will expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress. I am married to Lee Soobin. Our only daughter is Kim Namjoo. I hereby nominate, that if anything happens to me, my wife in legal name, Lee Soobin, as next Chief Executive of Daehan Corp. If this Executive is unable to serve I appoint my daughter Kim Namjoo as heir of Daehan Corp. Regarding assets, all will go to my wife as will my property and all following extensions. My daughter Kim Namjoo will receive the remaining 5%. If the former Executive is unable to complete these tasks, I hereby bequeath all said property, assets, extensions, and the company to our heir, Kim Namjoo.’” Lawyer Kim finished before detailing the amounts of property her father owned, stocks in the company, life savings and so on.

Namjoo closed her eyes for a split second then opened them again. Shaking her head, “I can’t. No.”

“Namjoo…”

“I’m not competent,” Namjoo refused, “I never went to business school.”

“You can learn,” Lawyer Kim assured.

“I’m not doing it,” Namjoo told, “and I…don’t want the house or his money. I don’t want any of it.”

“This is your father’s last wish,” Lawyer Kim reasoned.

Namjoo helplessly shook her head, “Isn’t there a substitute in the company right now? He’s fine as I heard it is.”

“He’s not your family. He wouldn’t understand what your family wants,” Lawyer Kim argued. “Namjoo, you left but you can’t continue leaving your family behind like this. Your father needs you.”

“I can’t go back,” Namjoo’s voice dropped somberly. Sliding out of her chair she stood, “I’m sorry, Lawyer Kim.”

ǂǂǂǂǂ

Chanyeol checked the newspaper again the following day. Not on the front page but he found in the business section news about Namjoo’s mother’s passing. There was a photo of the burial and a small article of condolences toward the family. Chanyeol placed the newspaper back and walked away.

Two nights now Namjoo hadn’t returned to her small place in the rutty neighborhood. Chanyeol had waited while hiding in the dark. He hadn’t had the nerve to go to the funeral hall. He didn’t want anyone seeing him, a strange man not of their class. If he roused gossip he might have to face Namjoo again, and he didn’t think he wanted to see her face to face again. Too many awful memories, too much bitterness still leftover.

He still hadn’t forgiven her.

Even so, that night he returned to the thin alley. Becoming one with the shadows he stood waiting. It was just a little past 10PM but it was dark enough for him not to be seen. Especially since he had chosen to wear dark colors. Stay out of eyes he kept reminding himself lest he be caught by Namjoo.

The hour continued passing, minutes ticking by. Still no sign of her. Chanyeol leaned against the building, hands tucked into his pockets. Part of him still wondered why he was here, but he thought that if he saw her just for a moment in her miserable state he might be happy. It was just a thought though.

He waited longer sinking into the memories he held onto dearly. Back to being a high schooler. To finally discovering a companion who listened to him. They had sat at the creek one day with legs dangling into the water, their hands entwined. He believed then that Namjoo liked him as much as he liked her.

“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” he had grinned. “When I was in the orphanage, I always wanted normal parents but now I don’t regret it.”

“Why?” Namjoo peered at him innocently. “Because of me?”

Growing shy he smiled while looking down into the water where their reflections blurred. He had been so young, so easily moved. Then Namjoo suddenly grabbed his arm, “What are you thinking about? You’re thinking about naughty things aren’t you?”

“What?! No!” he blushed.

Laughing, she teased, “I’m going to push you in.”

He grabbed her too and playfully threatened to push her in. Quick on her feet Namjoo ran off leaving him to chase her. Chanyeol had thought then that he’d like to marry her someday, but look where he was now. And look at what she’d done to him.

Her betrayal had angered him more than hurt him, yet more than that she had broken his heart. He wanted her to be miserable. She should suffer what she made him go through. Suddenly upset, Chanyeol twisted his fingers into a fist and turned around to walk away. What the hell was he doing here for her? He shouldn’t be here. There were better things to do.

He froze the moment he pivoted. The moon cascaded over the figure standing in the center of the lane staring at him. Chanyeol regretted the moment he’d stepped out of the shadows. Should have remained hidden because now he was found out, and by the person he most wanted to avoid. He bit down on his teeth.

“Are you here to steal again?” Namjoo asked.

He broke their eye contact and looked back and forth at the dirty concrete, “No.” He stepped forward to walk away but Namjoo sidestepped him blocking his way.

“Chanyeol.” She looked up at him.

He refused to meet her eyes. It wasn’t him he wanted to scream. He wasn’t Park Chanyeol. But he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t scream it.

“Chanyeol,” she repeated, “right?”

Pressing his lips together he moved to the side to continue walking, but this time Namjoo touched his arm. It may have been the only trigger he needed to send his heart flying into his throat. It pounded so hard he could feel his blood level elevating.

God, he hated himself.

He almost regretted it when Namjoo removed her hand. Softly smiling she asked, “Do you want to stay with me for a bit?”

Unable to keep himself under control, he glanced at her. A minute later he sat with her on the curb as she snacked on some chips. He wondered if she had eaten but he didn’t dare ask. He did notice that she was wearing all black and knew she had come back from the burial. How it had gone and how she was feeling he didn’t want to know, but that part of him remained curious. Still, he said nothing. He didn’t want to be interested in her.

He never wanted to be connected with her again.

“What are you doing out here this late at night?” Namjoo asked stretching her legs out into the empty road. The chips crunched inside . It brought him a memory of when they had shared a piece of candy through a kiss. Her eyes had gone wide with surprise after he’d taken the candy. Disgusting as it may sound, he had liked it. Chanyeol had felt so close to her. Now he wondered if it had been all part of a game for her. If she had had fun with him only to report to Pyunghwa.

Jerk.

“The skies are clear tonight,” Namjoo commented by herself. “It used to be nice sharing it with someone.” She looked at him. “Why? You don’t want to talk to me?”

He continued staring at the closed dry cleaners shop ahead. Yes, he didn’t want to talk to her. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her. He hated it. He still hated himself for falling for her!

“I guess that’s fine,” Namjoo turned away, “but you know, I left home.” Chanyeol made no remark and if she had been waiting he wanted her to be disappointed. “If you’re ever hungry or want anything, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Take what you want.”

He listened to her stand up and brush her pants clean. Grabbing the convenience store bag from the ground she turned to walk away. He refused to turn and watch her go. He refused to let himself hope that she might come back and sit down again.

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On some days Namjoo picked up her phone as if she may have a missed phone call from home. Nothing. Other days she parked across the street from Chorong’s workplace hoping to get a sight of her. Then she’d wait until closing hours to see her friend get into her car and make it home safely. And then there were times when she listened to the radio for news about the business world.

“SJ group has been acquiring stocks from Daehan Corp. At this rate, the company may even plummet.”

“Yes, that’s right. After Madam Kim’s passing, the company management has been out of control. You may call this reckless nature,” the radio hosts spoke to each other.

Namjoo punched the button to turn the radio off. It was hot in her car. The buttons to scroll the windows down no longer worked. Her Camry was really dying on her. Shoving the door open Namjoo stepped out to get some fresh air. Her hair had fallen loose from her bun and she was sweating really bad. A week had passed since she’d buried her mother and Namjoo was growing restless by the day for some odd reason. She’d gone to the hospital to visit her father, but she hadn’t managed to step into the room. She didn’t want to see her father hooked up to all those monitors or that mask over his face that pumped oxygen into his system. Namjoo didn’t want to see what was leftover of her family.

Brushing her loose bangs back she paced back and forth on the sidewalk. After tiring herself out Namjoo retired back into her car and drove around the city. She had to at least do her job in order to get her pay. Then she’d head home and nature would take its course.

That evening there was someone in front of her home. At first she thought it may be Chanyeol, but as she neared she realized the figure was not of his height.

“It took a while to find this place,” Junmyeon greeted glancing at her shabby home. “I don’t know if I should be saying welcome home?”

Namjoo stared at her unexpected visitor. His presence tingled her sixth senses and she knew she would be receiving unwelcoming news.

“Lets talk,” Junmyeon got down to business and gestured for her to unlock the door.