Songju burst through the door of the treatment room, wearing her air of drama queen as if it was this season’s must-have. Inhee smiled at the arrival of her best friend. If anyone was going to help her make sense it would be Songju, with her remarkable ability to see through half-truths and get straight to the point.

“So I get back from court and pop in to see my brother in his new flat, and he’d got this crazy story about your dear sister and a baby and a hospital. I didn’t have a clue what was going on, so I thought I’d better get down here and find out what just what he’s talking about. Explain, Inhee! Where did the baby come from? What are you doing here? And why does my brother look so cagey whenever I mention your name?”

Inhee couldn’t help but laugh. “Hello to you too, Songju. And this Dahee’s baby. She left her on my doorstep with a note. Your brother was passing by to pick up his keys and…and kept us company while we were waiting here.”

It was rare that she saw Songju lost for words, but she dropped into a chair now, silent, and Inhee could practically see the thoughts being processed behind her eyes. Her legal mind was reading all the evidence, everything that Inhee was saying, and everything she wasn’t.

“Okay, give it to me again. And this time with details.”

Inhee sighed and took a breath, wondering how many times she would have to repeat everything that had happened. But when she came to talking about Jongin her words stumbled and faltered.

“Jongin turned up to collect his keys just as I’d been left literally holding the baby and freaking out. He suggested we walk over here and have her checked out.”

“And then he waited with you?? How long for?”

Inhee glanced at her watch. “A couple of hours, I guess.”

Songju blew out a deliberate breath, and Inhee raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing…nothing at all,” Songju said, but Inhee had known her long enough to know she was hiding something.

“Not nothing,” she told her best friend. “Definitely something.”

Songju looked at her for a long time before she replied. “Something,” she agreed, nodding, her eyes sad. “But not my something to tell. Can we leave it at that?”

Inhee nodded. Though she was intrigued, her friend’s rare sombre tone had pulled her up short and warned her to stop digging.

“So you and my brother then…?”

“It’s not like that.” The denial came to Inhee’s lips as soon as she realised what Songju was getting at. “I don’t think he wanted to be here at all. He looked like he was going to bolt the whole time.”

“So why didn’t he?”

True to form, Songju had hit on the one question that Inhee had been searching an answer to—to no avail.

“I’ve no idea.”

“I’ve got one or two,” Songju said with a sly grin. “So what happens to the baby now?”

Another question Inhee had no answer to.

No doubt between the hospital staff and the police someone would be arranging for a social worker to visit her. But she had no intention of letting her niece be looked after by anyone but herself. She knew that she could look after her—she already ran a business from home and had flexibility in her hours and her work.

It was one of the things that she enjoyed most about her job as a freelance web designer—the chance to balance home and work life. She’d manage her work commitments around caring for the baby—whatever it took to keep the little girl safe and with her family.

“She’s coming home with me.”

Inhee gulped at the baldness of that statement, and backtracked. “Until we can find Dahee.”

“Right. And then you’re going to hand her over to a woman who’s been living God-knows-where and doing God-knows-what for years?”