The woman standing in front of Min-Jae barely reached five feet tall. He towered over her like an adult over a child, but still he cowed, shoulders curled inward and head bowed to his chest.

The woman’s eyes were filled with fury, a thin, tense line. Hawk watched them from across the office of the local police station. It was smaller than the building they’d been to that morning, less crowded and more casual.

After the officers had dragged Min-Jae away, it had taken Hawk a few minutes to figure out the best solution for his friend’s predicament.  In the end, he’d opted for calling Min-Jae’s mother instead.  She would burn hotter at the beginning, but she had a soft spot for her youngest child. 

“Eomma,” Min-Jae whined. “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to do it.  It was an accident.”

Hawk’s ears perked up.  Min-Jae must have given some thought to his explanation, and it sounded like Hawk was about to hear it.

“Accident?” Min-Jae’s mother squawked. “Stealing a pair of woman’s shoes was an accident? What … were you taking them for a test run?”

Hawk covered his mouth to hide the snigger.

“Eomma…” Min-Jae pleaded, reaching up to wipe away an invisible teardrop. He sniffed. “Those shoes were a present for someone important. I just wanted to get Hawk’s opinion. I didn’t realize I’d gone so far, and then the alarm went off…”

Min-Jae’s mother snatched her handbag off the crook of her arm and whacked it over her son’s shoulder. It was highest body part she could reach. Min-Jae flinched dramatically.

“Someone important? You’re stealing shoes for girls now? Are you even my son? How could you do something like that!”

“Eomma…” Min-Jae’s lip quivered. He raised his eyes to meet his mother’s blazing gaze. “Your birthday’s coming up. I wanted to buy you something special, as special as you are to me.”

Incredulous, she blinked at him before laying in a second time. “You expect me to believe that? Now you’re making up stories to tell your mother?” She stormed, a tiny tempest, raining handbag thumps over her son’s back.

Hawk winced. It was a valiant effort on Min-Jae’s part. A few amused officers leaned on their desks, sipping coffee out of paper cups while they enjoyed the show. 

“I even had to ask Seung-Bae’s father to make some calls and sort things out! You’re lucky he has connections, Park Min-Jae. You’re lucky he cares about his son’s friends.”

Hawk’s eyebrows shot upward. He doubted that was true. It was much more likely that Attorney Kim didn’t want anyone to know his son’s friends were social deviants.

“Eomma…” Min-Jae sniffled.

“Aigoo.” She’d finally blown out, deflated to an exhausted calm.  She stood staring at her son for a moment then let loose a deep, put-upon sigh. “Well.  Let’s not tell your father about this.”

Min-Jae nodded, his expression contrite.

“Besides,” she straightened her blouse, “you know I prefer closed toed shoes. I don’t know what you were thinking trying to buy me something flashy like that. Come on, let’s go home.” She turned and headed towards the exit.

Min-Jae smirked at Hawk, tossing a wink as he strutted by, and followed his mother out the door.

Hawk shook his head, then pulled himself up and hurried after them.