The photo of the three of us with our arms around each other—tousled hair, flushed cheeks and bright eyes—was my favourite. I traced the wide smiles wistfully, remembering how I had fallen down right after that and cut my knee open. Jongin had helped me stick on a cartoon Band-Aid he had been saving, and Sehun had given me his favourite toy to comfort me. Both of them always gave to me freely, generously, without much thought.

"According to royal decree, Kim Jongin, slave of the exiled Minister Lee's household, is sentenced to death for the murder of noblewoman Choi Jinri and treason against Joseon, its people, and the king. He will hang at the king's pleasure."    The first snow had fallen; the bitter snap in the wind indicated a harsh winter.