The tall shrub that Sunny had sculpted into a statue resembling Min Ho was completed, but no sign of the artist. The surprisingly realistic likeness brought him to a stop for a second look on the driveway. He imagined what she could do with clay or stone. She was truly talented.

He was led through the building by a man wearing blue scrub. Must be the nurse working here. The man came to a stop and pointed to a glass door. “In here.”

“Thank you.”

 “She’ll meet you inside. Have a great day, sir.”

Min Ho thanked him again and walked into a small lobby, now vacant.

Sister Mi-Kyung walked out of a side door. “Hello, Agent.” She wore a blue dress today. Silver jewelry and cork wedges. She’d fixed her hair differently, tied back in a ponytail but not haphazardly. Same contagious smile. An angel in her own right, in the service of wounded souls.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this your lucky day?” she asked.

“Kuree? I wish the same could be said for Ji Hyo.”

Her brow arched in question. “Eo?”

“The girl we found this morning.”

“Aigo. Terrible. Awful. I suggest you say nothing of it to Paradise.”

“So she’s agreed?”

“She has. But it took some coaxing on my part. You have as much time as she will give you. Unfortunately I’m a bit shorter on time and I’ll have to wait here while you talk to her. So why don’t we say fifteen minutes?”

“Half an hour.”

“What exactly do you plan on asking her?”

“You said she had a gift.”

She thought about that. Wondering why he has resort to this foolish chase, he thought.

“Let’s just say I’m running out of options and time.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay, Agent. Half an hour.”

She took a habit in calling him ‘Agent’, he thought as he stepped through the door and entered a room with a large window, Coca-Cola and snack machines, and a sofa grouping that faced a wall-mounted flat-screen television.

Park Shin Hye stood by a counter with a sink, watching him as he shut the door behind him. She wore the same too-short jeans and canvas tennis shoes she’d had on the last time he’d seen her. A gray sweatshirt hung on her slight, five-foot frame. Her dark hair still looked stringy – he suspected she looked the same every day of the week. Not unclean, but messy. Very messy.  

“Hello, Shin Hye-ssi. Good to see you again.”

“Hello.” Her voice was tight. Nervous.

He stood still for a moment, caught up in the little he knew about her history. Something in her childhood had broken her. She was bipolar, but Sister Mi-Kyung had said that her initial diagnosis of schizophrenia could be wrong. That she might not suffer from hallucinations but actually saw these ghosts. The notion seemed ridiculous now. Shin Hye didn’t look like anything more than a damaged young woman.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to me,” he said. “Do you mind if we sit?”

“Eo? Ani, I don’t mind. Please have a seat.”

He walked around the couch and sat down. She made no sign of joining him.

“Would you like to sit?”

“Not really,” she said.

“Arrasso. So you’re probably wondering why I want to talk to you.” The moment the words came out, he wanted to pull them back. “Not that people wouldn’t want to talk to you, of course. It’s just that I’m with the special agent unit and I’ve come back here asking specifically to speak to you. I’m sure that’s a bit unnerving.”

“It’s okay, Min Ho-ssi. I – ”

“Call me Min Ho, don’t worry about the formalities. Oppa is okay too” He grinned, earing a blush from her.

She hesitated. “Min Ho oppa.” She tested before she continued, much to Min Ho’s dismay as ofcourse he meant it as a joke. But he still liked the way she said it.

“It’s understandable why you think I’d be uncomfortable with your request to speak with me. Or with any of us. Most people would rather we didn’t exist. It’s hard for us to trust people who don’t like us, I’m sure you can understand that.”

He was surprised by how well spoken she was. Sounded a bit like Sister Mi-Kyung, clearly her mentor.

“I can understand that. Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes. But I wouldn’t go as far as Yoo Bi or Jae Suk Oppa.”

“Really? What did they say?”

“Oppa thinks you’re a conniving weasel who’s trying to cut him out. After all, he offered to help first, and everyone knows he’s pretty good at what he does.”

“What does he do?”

“Connect dots that most people miss.”

Astute. Maybe he should talk to Jae Suk again.

“And what did Yoo Bi say?”

She crossed her arms. “She said you’re a handsome devil and that your only interest for wanting to see me alone is to get into my pants.”

Min Ho failed to suppress a sharp chuckle. “Well, you can tell her that I appreciate her flattery, but it won’t help her get into mine.”

Again he wanted to take the words back. But a hint of a smile registered on Shin Hye’s face, so rather than pull back, he pushed forward.

“On the other hand, if I wasn’t sworn off women, I might find either of you – ”

“Don’t say it,” she snapped.

He blinked.

“The comment about Yoo Bi was funny. Leave it at that. Now, please tell me what I can do for you. I’ll be as helpful as I can be.”

“Well, whatever you think I meant, you were likely wrong. I’m not here to take advantage of anybody, mind, body, or spirit. I’m just trying to break the ice.”

She looked at him for a long while, and for a brief moment he wondered if she was seeing one of her hallucinations.

He let her stare. She finally lowered her arms and eased herself down onto the arm of a stuffed chair opposite him. “Sorry for that. I’m not normally so” – she waved a limp hand – “edgy. Whatever you might think, Min Ho oppa,” She paused to see how it sounds. Clearly satisfied, she continued, “I’m not like some of the others here. Not that I’m proud of that. I wouldn’t mind having some of their gifts, schizophrenic or not. But the fact of the matter is, I’m not schizophrenic. I do, however, struggle with bipolar disorder. I assume you know the difference.”

“I do. For the most part.”

“Bipolar disorder, once called manic-depressive illness, is a mood disorder that presents with quick onsets of manic highs that yield to usually longer-lasting depressive lows. It’s inherited. Medication helps, but I hate the way the stuff messes with me, so I avoid it and work through the cycles. Some people can’t cope. Fortunately, I can.”

“That’s good.”

“Clearly. Schizophrenia, on the other hand, is a thought disorder. A form of psychosis that typically presents itself in the late teens and early twenties. It’s thought to be linked to the way dopamine and serotonin work in the brain, but no one really knows whether it’s more about chemical imbalance or the receptors in the brain.”

“You seem well studied.”

“I read the medical journals. They’re all working in a fog, trust me. Most psychotic illnesses like schizophrenia present with delusions – either paranoid or grandiose; hallucinations – visual, auditory, and so on; or other thought disorders that mess with the processing of ideas in the mind. Does that all make sense?”

“Yes.” He had a new respect for Shin Hye already.

“Schizoaffective disorder is essentially a combination of a mood disorder like bipolar and schizophrenia. Just to clarify a few terms. I do have a mood disorder – bipolar – but I am not crazy.”

She slipped from the chair’s stuffed arm down onto the seat cushion. “So, what can I do for you?”

Sitting here looking into her brown eyes, listening to such succinct articulation, he saw an entirely different person than the one he’d seen a few days earlier.

“We found another victim this morning. A girl named Song Ji-Hyo, in her early twenties.”

Shin Hye just stared.

“She was dead. The killer drained her blood and left her for us to find.”

“That’s pretty sick.”

“I agree.”

She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “Who could do such a thing?” Her eyes misted and she averted them. His own throat tightened.

“We thought the killer might have a history with the Center for Wellness and Intelligence, but nothing’s panning out.”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. I’m following my gut. Something Sister Mi-