“Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear.”
― Margaret Atwood

Walking up the front steps is probably the hardest thing Son Jihyo has ever had to do. When she left this place eight years ago, through all the heartache and confusion she found peace in knowing that she would never return. But here she was, back again, forcing herself to remember the past, trying to conjure the memories she’d erased of her entire life.

The old victorian seemed less homely this time around. It loomed over her threateningly, daring her to go inside. How dare she come back after the mess she’d made, the sinking window sills berated, did she really think she was welcomed? Jihyo glanced away from the house, inhaling deeply. She needed to stop thinking, her thoughts only managed to make her feel worse. Standing before the big wooden doors she contemplated whether she'd made the right choice, the sane choice. Was this really what it had come to for her? Was there really no other options? Her hands balled to fists by her side and she knew there wasn’t any other way. She needed them, needed their help.

Jihyo knocked on the door tentatively, knowing that the sound alone would be enough, if anyone was inside they would hear it. As a matter of fact, if anyone was inside they would have heard her walking up the drive. Instead, she is met with silence. The quietness of the house within irritated her. Had it always been this noiseless? Growing up the manor had been full of the sounds of roughhousing and sizzling bacon, subordinate whimpers, and boys arguing about who was the manliest of the bunch. Noise had been just another presence in the already overcrowded home. So why was the house in front of her so still? Tranquil, almost as if the noise left with her all those years ago.

The silence irritated her.

Though, if she was being honest, she was more frightened than annoyed. And she was aggravated because she was frightened, more so than she was disgruntled towards her mute surroundings. She didn’t know what to expect from them anymore, didn’t know how they would react or even if they would accept her. She was jet-lagged and sleepy and all she wanted was to go to bed and wake up with all of her problems fixed. But that wouldn’t happen and so she was bad-tempered.

Exhaling Jihyo knocked again this time putting more force behind her blows. She was answered with more silence. Wondering if the door was still left unlocked, she took a quick glance toward the surrounding trees before gripping the doorknob and twisting it slightly. The door opened with a satisfyingly soft click, bringing a small smirk to her lips. Pushing the door open Jihyo entered.

From what Jihyo could remember the front door had never been locked. The Pack lived in an aging victorian in the middle of the woods, isolated from any form of civilization, there’d never been a need for such precautions. From her time there they had never gotten any visitors and it wasn’t like they needed any.

The Pack grew their own fruits and vegetables and raised enough cattle for any dairy products they desired. The meat wasn't scarce as the surrounding woods was home to a plethora of deer and other animals so they had always had everything they needed right there. Jihyo remembered how convenient it all was and scoffed, convenient or not, it sure as hell was lonely. Lonely and stuffy. Though it had always been her life, though she'd been accustomed, there would be days when all she'd wanted was to runaway and speak to anyone that wasn't a permanent part of her world. Anyone that wasn't The Pack.

They’d never even had a television. Any entertainment she got was from the animals and Wonpil. She wondered how her childhood best friend would react to the news of her arrival. Jihyo hadn't even been able to say goodbye to him, whatever he knew about the incident he would have had to hear it from the guys and Jihyo didn't know what that side of the story had to say about her.

Walking into the house the smell hits her and for a second she is still. The smell of old books and the fireplace were all too familiar, it brought a warm feeling to her chest. But it was the smell of them that had her rethinking her plan. The scent was everywhere, old pines mixed with the scent of rushing water, and crisp fall leaves. Lavender from the garden out back and honey, the scent of honey was everywhere. So was the all too familiar smell of Jeremy's peppermint cigar. There were a few new scents like the exaggerated smell of disinfectant and traces of an unfamiliar body but besides that, it was all still familiar.

As she took a few steps into the house an unnerving realization hit her; she missed them.

In all truthfulness, she didn't know she'd been missing them at all. When she left she’d extracted them from her life completely. She left the country, she wouldn't pick up their phone calls, she wouldn't even let herself think about them. She'd made up her mind to erase them from her memories. She hadn’t thought about them until last week when things had gotten far too difficult for her to handle. So this new revelation of her feelings was unsettling. All this time she’d felt pride for being able to depend on herself but just one minute back home and she was seventeen years old again. Ready for her brothers to fix all her issues.

Jihyo glanced around the small foyer. On her right, a familiar old shoe rack was still there, though she noticed someone had moved it aside to make room for a small table where a bowl with different sets of keys sat atop it. The sunlight sneaking in through the open doorway caught the light of a set down in the bottom of the bowl. She reached down and picked up a ring holding three keys and as she ran her thumb over the engraved letters on the face of the longest key, her mind flashed back to the day Jeremy gave them to her.

“What’s this?” A seventeen-year-old Jihyo asked, beaming unconsciously up at the man as she reached to take the set of keys dangling from his extended finger. She never could keep a straight face when she knew something was going to go her way.

“Those are keys,” Jeremy stated sarcastically as if she couldn’t tell herself what they were.

“What- No- I- ugh,” Jihyo sighed, rolling her eyes up at the big man as he chuckled, “Jere, I know they’re keys but, what are they for?”

“One’s for the house-”

“The house is always unlocked, why do I need a key?” She interrupted him. Jeremy stopped talking, his eyebrow rose in question, Jihyo bit her lip, “Sorry, continue.”

“Other ones for your room. You’ve been asking me for a while now to install a lock for your bedroom and I figured now was the time.”