They had been driving southward for hours, yet Bora eerily kept silent. Mark who hadn’t spent as much time in her presence as Jackson didn’t pay any heed to this fact. Jackson, however, was set off. After realizing her pleas to release the male sitting next to her fell on deaf ears, she’d just given up.

That was what didn’t sit right with Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he missed her talking but he definitely didn’t like her keeping silent. He expected her to ask more questions about the hard drive. A daunting thought then formed at the back of his head, one he didn’t want to consider possible. Her silence irked him more than her constant pestering and Jackson easily concluded that she had already obtained what she was looking for.

The possibility of her, or anyone for that matter, cracking their way into the tiny yet overprotected black hard drive drove him mad. It should have been impossible but he had a hunch that she had done it. Not only that, but she had involved another civilian. A new liability. And, like she’d acquired a special and lethal weapon they better watch out for, Bora remained silent.

***

Bora had moved to Seoul with her father, Lee Hyun Suk, at the tender age of thirteen. Now, she had turned twenty one and she had not set foot back in the city of Busan in eight whole years. Nonetheless, she would never forget the smell she so associated with home. It was humid but fresh, salty but light. The smell of the sea was one she would never forget no matter how many years passed. That smell had rocked her childhood spent on the coast and would die with her when she would be old and crumpled.

If I make it that far.

She was first hit with the gust of wind that ripped into the car when someone rolled a window down. The murkiness coated her skin and the ocean air filled her nose. Home.

“Are we in Busan?” Bora was surprised to hear a smile in her voice.

A silence stretched in the car during which Mark and Jackson no doubt exchanged looks.

“Yes,” Jackson finally conceded.

She didn’t need any confirmation. She could feel it down to her bones that she was in Busan. It was like she had a special link to this place. All she could repeat again, and again in her head was, I’m home. The joy bubbling up inside her and threatening to erupt like a volcano felt wrong, yet right at the same time.

Their vehicle slowed then rolled to a complete stop. Someone opened her door and she was in Jackson’s grip again. She gritted her teeth at the pressure he purposefully applied on her arm, but she refused to complain. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain. She wouldn’t give anyone that satisfaction.

“Welcome to the Cliff,” Mark muttered behind her.

Now, she heard it. Loud and clear. The waves crashing against rocks. She swore she felt the ocean sprinkle mist on her face. The air was still suffocatingly hot even in the middle of the night and the fresh drops were like a beacon in the dark.

“Don’t tell me,” Bora deadpanned as large, uneven stones crunched under her feet, “we’re on a cliff and you named your super secret base of operations after it?”

In response, she was pushed forward by Jackson. As she walked, she tripped several times on the steep, irregular, rocky path. She heard Jackson snigger just as many times. She bit her tongue to refrain curses from tumbling out. Her breathing was embarrassingly labored even though they’d just walked a few feet. This might’ve been the most inappropriate moment to point out she better check-in with a doctor in the near future.

When they reached a set of steps, Jackson lifted Bora off the ground as though she was the weight of a handful of sand. He snickered when she started grumbling about unsolicited help once he put her back on her feet. “Seeing your stellar balance, I was afraid you wouldn’t survive a set a stairs,” Jackson said, his voice holding thin-veiled mockery. He might or might not have found unnerving Bora amusing.

“How considerate of you,” she seethed with anger, her head whipping to what she guessed was his silhouette walking next to her beneath the blindfold.

He pushed her forth again impatiently and she let out a string of curses to which he replied, “All I hear is yapping,” then, he proceeded to imitate a yapping puppy in her ear.

Bora flinched and bristled, “Prick.”

But a slight part of her couldn’t bring herself to feel genuinely annoyed, because, no matter the circumstances, she was home. And in that brief instant, it was all that mattered.

***

Despite being blindfolded, Woobin and Bora felt the change of setting. The air cooled down by a few degrees and the freshness of air conditioning kissed their skin in a pleasant way, a welcome relief from the unrelenting heat and the sweat that coated them. The place they stepped in was deathly silent apart from the echo of their steps against the marble floor.

Bora let herself be led until she realized they had stepped in an elevator. She didn’t understand until the cabin kicked into motion and started going down, down. It was too late to back away. Her heart raced. She wanted to reach for her blindfold but was stopped short by the handcuffs. The anxiety building up in her chest grew by ten like a monster growing two heads when you cut one.

She was cuffed.

In a cramped space.

“Bora,” said someone, breaking the silence, “You’re okay.”

An affirmation. A reassurement.

She nodded even though Woobin couldn’t see her. Being her friend since she was thirteen, he’d gotten around to know her many facets and learned to be watchful. He couldn’t see her, feel her, but he knew exactly what was going on inside her head.

I’m okay, I’m okay, she kept repeating herself, even as an inner voice told her otherwise. She swallowed hard, fighting against the tightness in her chest that kept her heart in a tight leash. What was it she was supposed to do when her claustrophobia kicked in? She couldn’t remember.

Jackson’s grip around her arm loosened and she heard him say, “What’s going on?” His voice came off distant like they were on opposite ends of a tunnel. She could only focus on Woobin’s voice. He needed her undivided attention.

Focus, focus, focus.

“Countdown, Bora,” Woobin said calmly, completely ignoring Jackson.

Right, countdown. That’s right. Countdown from 100 by threes.

She nodded to herself and took a deep breath.

100…

What if they got stuck? Her inner voice flashed a thousand worst case scenarios into her brain. Vivid images of what could happen; a free fall, a power outage, a certain death.

97…

She exhaled and the leash holding her heart in an iron grip loosened. They must be under sea level by now.

94...

The elevator came to a sudden stop, shaking her stomach sideways. She was going to throw up. The elevator steadied, the metal doors slid open with a soft ding and she lurched forward, toward the fresh air. She’d made it out. She was barely recovering from her rollercoaster of emotions when what she heard made her stop dead in her tracks.

It was a crowd. Maybe no