Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, abandonment, and suicidal thoughts 

 

It was daytime, but both María and Moonbyul were asleep. Moonbyul’s body was still adjusting to the many medications she was on, and María, well, she just slept whenever she could because she always hoped she could dream of Hwasa. 

 

Sometimes she did. She dreamt of their younger days, happy memories playing out in her sleep, and sometimes they were living the lives they would never get to in reality––graduation, university, renting a first apartment together, first day of work at a company, soju and noraebang with friends… But of course she also dreamed of that night. She saw it replay, from so many different angles, over and over again, always with the sirens blaring. 

 

But this time her and Hwasa were small and running across the school courtyard during recess. There was another girl chasing them, but her face was blurry. Her laugh, though, was familiar, as if María had heard it in another lifetime.

 

She was abruptly woken from the dream by a nurse gently shaking her shoulder. She looked up to first see the nurse smiling at her in the delicate way they always did, as if she were a thing to be pitied, and then to see Hwasa rubbing her eyes next to her in bed. 

 

“Too bad,” Hwasa said. “That was a nice dream.”

 

“You have a visitor, María,” the nurse said, guiding the girl from her bed, helping her put on her slippers. “From what I understand, she came a long way to see you.” 

 

She grinned as if that meant something to María, but María had no idea who could possibly be here to see her. Her parents never visited. 

 

As the nurse led María from her bedroom, she turned to see Moonbyul stirring, watching María go with bleary eyes. She wanted to say something to Moonbyul, something to reassure her, but she didn’t even know what she’d say or why she would say it. Saying I’ll be back would be redundant because of course she would be. But the urge was still there. 

 

“See,” Hwasa said as she walked beside María, “I knew you could be nice.”

 

“Shut up,” María mumbled. 

 

The nurse looked at her for a moment, the smiley facade breaking for just a few seconds before acting like nothing happened. 

 

María found herself in the common area, a place she typically avoided because she had no use for it––why bother getting close to anyone, keeping up with the latest dramas (that they allowed them to see, that is), or playing board games stored in crumbling boxes. She’d read every book in there at least three times, even the ones she hated. Books didn’t talk back to her at least. 

 

She saw a girl about her own age seated at one of the tables, looking down at her folded hands. The girl was familiar, so familiar… The laughter of the blurry-faced girl from her dream replayed in her head when they finally locked eyes. 

 

Wheein.

 

Suddenly gaps in the dreams she’d been having for years were filled in. 

 

Wheein playing soccer with María and Hwasa. Wheein eating ice cream with them as they walked through their small village. The three of them rolling down a hill together, their laughter filling the air, flying all the way up to the puffy clouds above them.

 

“María,” Wheein said. She stood up, her hands, flat on the table, were trembling so hard, as if they were holding her up instead of her legs. “Oh my God, María.” 

 

María stared blankly at Wheein. 

 

Where had she been for the past three years?

 

“Sit down, honey,” the nurse prompted María. 

 

She took the seat across from Wheein, who slowly lowered herself back into the chair. Hwasa sat beside Whee In, beaming at the sight of their friend. 

 

“Whee In has grown up so well,” she said to María. 

 

“She abandoned me,” María said to Hwasa. “Us. She abandoned us.” 

 

Wheein’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

 

“Abandoned you? María, no, I couldn’t find you. I looked everywhere for you for the past three years.”

 

When María didn’t say anything, Wheein took a deep breath and continued. 

 

“Your parents wouldn’t tell me where you were. Eventually, I figured out you weren’t in prison because there was no trial. That would have made every headline in our local newspapers.”

 

María recalled the headline of her sister’s death, how it was said to be an accident, but the police were still investigating. That was the last news she had of their village, of the outside world, before coming here. 

 

“I called hospitals,” Wheein continued, “but it took me so long to contact them all, and they wouldn’t always give me information because I was a minor at first, then because I wasn’t family, so I’d pretend I was. 

 

“I’d go there, flowers in hand, asking for your room number. That always tricked them. They’d look you up right away, only to sympathetically look at me and tell me ‘Sorry, she isn’t here. Have you tried this hospital?’ And that’s how I kept searching.”

 

María just stared and stared, taking in all of Wheein’s familiar features, but also the ways she’d grown. The baby fat was gone from her cheeks, which were a bit more angular now. She spotted a butterfly tattoo. 

 

“Wheein did always love butterflies,” Hwasa said. 

 

“Do you know where you are?” Wheein asked. 

 

María furrowed her brows at her. How could Wheein think she didn’t know she was in a hospital? 

 

“Seoul, María,” Wheein quickly filled in. “So far away from home.” 

 

“She came all this way,” Hwasa said. “Be nice to her. She’s our best friend.” 

 

María suddenly felt tears in her eyes. When she looked up, Wheein was crying too. 

 

“Say something to her!” Hwasa was close to yelling. 

 

“What do I say after all these years?” María asked her.

 

“‘Hello’ would be a nice start,” her sister said.  

 

“Say anything you want,” Wheein said. “I’m just so happy to hear your voice.” 

 

“You shouldn’t have come here,” María said.

 

Wheein’s face fell. “What? Why?”

 

“She’s our best friend!” Hwasa stood, glowering at María. “Stop treating her so poorly! I can’t be there for you, so let her be.” 

 

“You are there for me!” María said. “You’re always here with me!”

 

Wheein looked at María, then at the chair next to her in confusion. 

 

“María… What’s going on?”

 

She turned to Wheein, tears now freely streaming down her face. “She was your best friend, she was my sister, and I killed her. I don’t know why you even bothered with me.” 

 

María got up to leave, but Wheein grabbed her by the arm. 

 

“Because I love you, María. And you didn’t, you could never have killed her. I just know it.”

 

María started to tremble. Wheein sat her back down in the chair. 

 

“You didn’t. You could never.”

 

“I did,” María said, “I hear the sirens.” 

 

Concern flashed over Wheein’s face. “That doesn’t mean you killed her.” 

 

“Listen to her,” Hwasa said. 

 

“I killed you!” María shouted. “I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve Wheein-ya, I don’t deserve to be alive!” 

 

“Oh, María,” Wheein sat in the chair next to her and pulled her in for a hug. 

 

How long had it been since someone hugged her?

 

“Don’t say such things. Please, María.” 

 

For the first time in three years, María cried. She sobbed into Wheein’s shoulder. She gripped her so tightly, never wanting to let go. 

 

She saw Hwasa standing behind Wheein, looking over her shoulder at the two of them. 

 

“Please never leave me,” María said.

 

“María…” Hwasa looked so pained at her words, like there was something she couldn’t tell her sister.

 

“Never,” Wheein said. “Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never leave you.”