A hand shook Jinsu from the groggy turbulence of her dreams, where she seemed to be running lost in a large, unfamiliar building after something she knew nothing about except that it was important.  It had been a long time since she’d actually remembered sleeping so fitfully, and she didn’t feel any less confused on waking up.

It was dark, but just enough moonlight seeped in from behind her curtains for her to be able to make out somebody standing over her.

“Jin, wake up.”

“’M awake,” she mumbled, attempting to sound more coherent than she felt as she stiffly pushed herself into a sitting position.  The voice sounded very familiar, but she was too tired to work out why.  Then it started to say something else and it clicked.

“Jimin?”  She squinted at him, some vague part of her brain telling her that he shouldn’t be back in Korea for at least another two weeks.  A huge sense of relief washed over her as he enveloped her in a gigantic hug, and whatever question she’d been about to ask him next was consigned to oblivion.  Her eyes prickled with tears.

“Yes, you doofus!”  Jimin’s voice was charged with emotion, and he ruffled her hair almost a little too aggressively.  “What the hell has been going on?”

Jinsu’s tired brain finally caught up with her.  “Why are you here?”

“I got a bunch of calls from an unfamiliar number saying you needed to talk about something urgent and then when I tried to ring I couldn’t get through.  If that wasn’t bad enough, Dad rang while I was cancelling all the remaining business meetings to get back here ASAP to say you’d gone missing and had I heard anything from you.  What are you doing, Jinsu?”

Mention of her father brought back a maelstrom of conflicting emotion and Jinsu burst into tears.

“I don’t even know anymore,” she sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to him as if afraid he’d vanish if she didn’t.  “I don’t know.”

He was clearly taken aback by the sudden breakdown, but he shifted from his crouch to sit on the bed, gathering her to him and shushing her gently as he rubbed a soothing hand up and down her spine.  One of Jinsu’s hands closed around crisp cotton, part of her cheek draped in what felt like a tie made from rough-spun silk, and she dimly registered that Jimin was still in a suit at some godforsaken hour of the morning.

When he felt she was calm, Jimin swung his legs around so that he was sitting beside her in the bed and dumped what must have been his suit jacket on the ground.  Jinsu didn’t bother complaining about it because it meant he planned on staying, at least for a little while.

“What time is it?” she croaked out.

“My flight landed at quarter to two, so probably about half three.”

Jinsu snuggled into his side.

“So, Mum and Dad both said there had been a couple of incidents and I saw online that there’s been some kind of relationship fiasco involving your maid.”

Jinsu nodded.  Jimin didn’t say anything, obviously waiting for her to continue, but Jinsu wasn’t sure she’d be able to without breaking down in an emotional wreck again.

After a good few moments, he sighed.  “All right, why don’t we start with why you were trying to ring me so urgently from a different phone when you’ve been here all week and your other phone is apparently still in working order?”

Jinsu wasn’t able to beat off the lump in and her voice was slightly choked as she answered.

“He was looking through my call log and I needed a way to communicate with people without him doing that.”

“Okay,” said Jimin slowly.  “Why was it so important he didn’t know you were ringing me?  We always talk, Jin.”

“Because I need you to testify in Mr Byun’s appeal case.”

Jimin’s body stiffened.  “Oh, .  Couldn’t that have waited two more years?”

His reaction was so completely not what Jinsu had expected that she didn’t know what to ask first: you were hoping this would happen? or why?  Or possibly even something like wait, so if you don’t think this is a dreadful idea, why didn’t you do it earlier?

After a few moments, she settled on a different tack.  “The statute of limitations expired yesterday.”

She heard (and felt) her brother whacking his head against the headboard.  “Oh my God.  No, no, no, no, no.”

Jinsu decided she was going to have to ask a question anyway.  Sniffling a little, she tried to sit up.  “Why?”

Jimin let out a groan of frustration.  “I can’t do anything while you’re still a minor!”

“I’m confused.”  Jinsu crinkled up her nose.  “Why not?”

He deflected it with another question.  “So has the lawsuit actually been filed?”

“Yes.”

“.”  There was another thud as he knocked his head heavily against the bedboard again.  “When?”

“Last thing yesterday.  It’s going to be processed and hit the press on Monday.”

He let out another groan, mumbling something under his breath that Jinsu didn’t catch.

“But Ji,” she said anxiously, tugging on his sleeve, “I don’t know what to do.”  Her eyes were filling with tears again and another little sniffle escaped her.  “The suit’s already been filed and I can’t back out now and leave the Byuns to dry because Mr Byun was reluctant enough to do it in the first place and I really owe it to him, b-but Dad’s finally accepting me a-and I—”  She swallowed a hiccough.  “A-a-and I really d-don’t want to lose that b-because—”

She wasn’t able to hold back the sob that wrenched its way out, and she buried her face in Jimin’s chest.

It distracted him from whatever exasperation his mind was going through, and his arms settled around her shoulders.

“It’s all right, Jinsu, it’s all right.”

“It’s not!” she wailed.  “We need you to testify so Mr Byun gets proper justice, not Dad manipulating everything to his liking again!  We can’t win without you but I don’t want D-dad to—”  The rest of what she said was lost in the sobs, but Jinsu wasn’t sure ho