His cry broke the silence. Everyone had stopped, looking at the scene in silence. We couldn't believe it, wouldn't accept it.

Moon Jongyun was dead.

He was like a father to me, getting me out of the gang, putting me on my feet, making sure I got into, and stayed into high school. He'd done everything for me, when my parents wouldn't.

And he was laying here, dead.

I knew he had three sons, but I'd never truly met him. But when I saw the little boy, about six, crying, begging for his 'Appa' to wake up, I knew what I had to do. Jongyun's wife died with the birth of his son, so there was no one here for this kid. I walked over, tapping his shoulder.

“What's your name?” I asked softly, trying not to cry, trying to stay strong for this kid.

“Jongup.” He sobbed, “I'm Jongup. Wake Appa up!” He begged, shaking my arm. “Wake him up!”

“I can't, Jongup-ssi.” I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip. “He's gone.”