Eonni. The word blossomed in Haenyeo’s mind, warm with possibility. Older sister. The word swelled, filling her up until she thought she might burst.

“He’s probably furious with me,” Seung-Bae sighed. He lay on his back beside her, his long frame stretched over the length of the bed, staring up at the ceiling and worrying at his loosened tie. He lifted his cell phone to check the screen, but it was dormant. His hand fell to his stomach, and he flipped the device over, running his fingers along its sides only to flip it again. It made a soft clicking sound each time it hit the pearly buttons of his white dress shirt.

She suspected he had something to say and was working himself up to it, and while she waited she let her thoughts drift back to her evening with Eun-Mi. Eonni. The innocent label had startled her at first. But now she wanted to go back to the teenager – to hold Eun-Mi’s hands in her own and press the girl to reveal in detail all the things that sisters in this strange, modern world shared with each other. Older sister. Could she really be that to Eun-Mi? Could they talk, laugh, and cry together? Could they brush each other’s hair and whisper heart secrets into each other’s ears? Her breath caught as an unexpected memory surfaced. The fifth’s deep, exasperated sigh, and the seventh’s laughter, like golden bells and wind on sparkling water. And then a flash of something much older, a dream of snow white hair and ruby lips. Of hushed accusations and haunting lullabies in the dark …

“Don’t worry,” Seung-Bae finally continued. Lamplight glinted off his black lashes and the sharp peak of his lips. “Everything is going to be fine. No matter what, I’m going to take care of you.” He turned his head towards her. “We’ll live here until I finish school. My mom left me enough money. We won’t have to worry about that. And then later, we can go anywhere you want to go. I’ll get a job, and we’ll be together.”

She laid her hand on his shirtsleeve. He wanted her to stay. It was a request she’d heard a hundred times before, but this time something was different. Something inside her felt different. This time when the words were spoken, her heart responded, it quickened and wanted to hear more. Was it possible? Could such a thing really be? Could she fit into his world and, with him, live a normal human life?

“I like it here,” she whispered.

But he hadn’t heard her. He rose from the bed and began pacing the floor. His shadow loomed, fractured, on the wall and ceiling. “When my father calls, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him I won’t do it. This time, I won’t go along with his plans. I’m twenty-one now, I’m not a child anymore. I should be able to make my own decisions, right?”

She sat up on the bed and reached for him, but Seung-Bae moved away to his desk and sat down. His brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “He can’t make me do it,” he growled. Then he turned and reached for a notebook, and, opening to a clean page, he began to write.

Her hands dropped to the bed. She pulled a pillow to her chest and held it close. Her stomach rumbled, and the familiar ache of hunger stretched her thin. She curled into herself and wondered how long she could ignore it.

 “Haeneyo.”

She looked up at him, and he rolled his chair towards the side of the bed, stopping when his knee hit the mattress. His hair fell into his face, throwing shadows over eyes that glistened darkly in the lamplight.

“Let’s get married,” he said, and then he grinned. “You see? That’s the solution. He’ll never be able to stop us then.” He straightened and stared down at her. His smile faded. “He’ll never be able to take you away from me. I won’t let him.” He reached out until his fingertips grazed her cheek. “I won’t lose you too.”

He turned away and rolled back to his desk. Gripping the edge, he drew in a deep breath. He reached for his pencil. As she watched, his hand flew across the white space, scratching with insistence, filling it up.

She watched him for hours, hoping and trembling.

.  .  .  .  .  .

That night, the sixth did not dream of her memories, nor did she dream of James’s memories. Instead, her dream came from a new place. A place that was once frozen, but like a seed bathed in Spring’s warmer showers, had begun to soften and change. The dream came from her heart.

.  .  .  .  .  .

She was lost in a wilderness, wandering in the cold, unforgiving dark. And then the darkness lessened into the smoky violet of dawn.  The biting scent of ginger filled her nostrils. A heavy mist left droplets of moisture on her skin.  At her feet, a light-dappled pathway appeared, barely visible through the lush growth of ferns and stinging pine needles that pressed and scratched and caught in her hair.  She picked her way cautiously around the branches; with each step her toes sank into the soft earth beneath. In the distance, an opening in the foliage appeared.  She moved towards it with a growing sense of urgency.

As if entering a shiny new world, she stepped out of the darkness and into a sun drenched Eden. Ancient trees dotted the landscape, swaying gently in the breeze as their sculpted limbs painted the grass beneath in shades of earthy grey.  Flowers grew in uniform patches of milky yellow, tangerine and lavender. Above the beds, pairs of white butterflies danced with each other, touching, parting, and then joining to become one flickering creature.

Several feet away, a man sat on a weathered park bench. His back was to her, and his thick black hair was shorn close, leaving the smooth nape of his neck exposed.  Curious, she made her way around the bench to stand in front of him.

When she stopped, he raised his head. Her eyes drunk in his face, and her heart filled with an overwhelming joy.  It was Seung-Bae. Yet he had grown older, his slim, youthful body had matured in stature and solid strength, and his eyes held a depth of wisdom that was one of the few gifts of true suffering.  His jaw line was chiseled with fierce pride. He looked up to meet her gaze, and his face broke into a loving smile; she bathed in it, relishing the slow tingle that spread over her skin. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.