Rather than simply being detached from Jaesun’s body, the girl with the missing memories is ejected rather violently. She stumbles forward, thrown off her balance, only to have someone catch her arm to steady her. Looking up, she finds the conductor holding onto her. The train is stopped a few feet away.

“Welcome back aboard,” the conductor says, as she follows him up the stairs and into the nearest train car.

“What’s going to happen to Jaesun?” she asks as she sits down in the seat furthest back, as she did the previous time. The train rumbles to life beneath her, and it begins to move, taking them away from the tragic figure of Jaesun.

“I don’t know.” From his tone, it doesn’t sound as if he is lying, but she has no way of knowing for sure. There are many things he is withholding from her. She knows demanding them won’t get her anywhere, though.

“So what is it this time?” She is referring to her memories. She saw Sungyeol again, much to her surprise, but she already remembered him, so it can’t be that.

“Check your pocket,” the masked man suggests, pointing.

As soon as he says the words, the girl feels something poking her thigh. Reaching into the pocket, she pulls out a small dagger. In the blink of an eye it morphs into a pen. The barrel is dark blue, the ends gold, and the top is capped with a protruding star shape.

“This is…” She thinks back, searching her mind, and something floats to the surface of her memories’ reservoir. The pen was a gift from her older sister, the last time she saw her.

“Guess what?” her sister says, jumping up and down excitedly in the girl’s room.

“What?” The girl is sitting at her desk reading a textbook. Although she has returned home for the weekend, she cannot afford to waste her time and is studying still. Final exams are coming up in a few weeks.

“I’m going to America!” her sister bursts out, grinning from ear to ear.

She looks up from her reading to stare for a moment. “Really? Wow. That’s very far away, you know.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve always wanted to experience another culture. America is a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“Won’t it be weird, though? You’re not going to be surrounded by Korean people. You’ll be a minority.” She worries this could be an issue.

“Not a big deal at all. America is known for its diversity, after all.”

“Okay, then.” She returns to perusing her textbook

“You should take the chance to study abroad while you’re in college,” her sister advises before leaving the room.

The day her sister departs is during a break, so she is there to see her off. Just before they reach the security gates, her sister turns around and says, “I have something for you.” Reaching into her bag, she takes out a wrapped rectangular box.

The girl takes it and unwraps it to find a pen with a star on top. “What is this for?”

“Wishing you luck in college. You’re always working so hard. This can be your lucky pen.”

“Oh. Thank you.” She gives her sister a hug. “Have fun in America. Call back if you need someone to talk to.”

The first reports from her sister are positive. It’s a different culture, perhaps cruder, but not so different from home that she feels like she’s in another world. There are some things she still pauses to stare at, but she has gotten used to most of the oddities. The people seem nice enough. It feels a lot brighter and open. There’s more open space and more trees.

Later on, her words are less optimistic. She doesn’t complain about anything, but she doesn’t seem particularly happy. Mostly she talks about her schoolwork, and her family worries she is hiding something.

Eventually she stops all communication with her family, and that is when they know something is wrong. However, they don’t know how bad it is until they receive the phone call informing them that their older daughter is dead.

“My sister committed suicide,” the girl says out loud, almost more to the air than to the masked man, who remains silent.

“She thought America would be the best place, but instead, it poisoned her. She got mixed up with some frat boys. They made fun of her accent, about her extreme politeness. They ually harassed her as well. It got to the point where she didn’t want to leave her room unless absolutely necessary. Then she hung herself.”

Once again, she is crying. The masked man rests a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t want to remember these things,” she says, her voice soft and hoarse. “It seems I forgot them for a reason.”

“But you have to remember,” says the conductor. His voice betrays more emotion than he has ever expressed in her encounters with him.

“Those boys…my parents sued, but they got off easy with some jail time and bail. I wanted to fly to America and tear them from limb to limb, but of course I couldn’t.”

Unlike Jaesun, she had no one to help her get the justice and revenge she desires.

“I’m sorry.”

The train rolls slowly to a stop.

“You have to go now.”

“I know.” Drying her tears, she walks slowly down the stairs until her feet touch the ground.

“Good luck.” The door closes behind her and the train departs once again.

This time she simply closes her eyes lets the darkness take her over.