Mo Yeon tucked Yeon Jin into her bed and dropped a kiss on her forehead.   “Good night, Yeon Jin.”  

“G’night.”   She closed her eyes only to open them again immediately.   “Eomma, when will Appa be back?”  

Mo Yeon brushed a stray lock of hair out of Yeon Jin’s face with a gentle touch.   “Soon, love.   He’ll be home soon, I promise.”  

“Okay.”   Yeon Jin shut her eyes again, satisfied.  

Mo Yeon closed Yeon Jin’s door behind her softly before going into the twin’s bedroom, her sons were sprawled on their covers and gazing up to the different glow in the dark in their ceiling.  

“That star is beautiful,” Young Jin said.

“They are all the same, so it’s all beautiful.” Hyo Jin responded

“How did Appa put it there? It’s kind of high” Young Jin asked curiously, lifting his little arms to somehow reach for the things in the ceiling.

“Appa’s really big and tall and strong so he can do everything.” Hyo Jin said with an unwavering trust to what his father can do.  

“Time’s up, boys,” she announced.   “Bed-time for the two of you.”  

Her three-year olds slid under their covers and smiled up at her.   “Good night, Eomma.”  

She ruffled their hair.   “Good night.”  

She closed the door behind her, thinking with a small pang of how Si Jin missed this kind of things with their children. All their children were growing up. Yeon Jin is now starting her 1st grade—and Mo Yeon still couldn’t believe it sometimes.   How had Yeon Jin’s toddler years gone by so quickly? It seemed like just yesterday that she and Si Jin had welcomed their little baby girl.

Mo Yeon stifled a sigh as she went downstairs to finish going through some files she’d brought home from work, wishing in a rather uncharacteristic moment of weakness that Si Jin could be there just to hold her and comfort her in this unexpected melancholy at the thought of how quickly their children were growing up.  

It was some time later when she was about to go upstairs to her lonely bed when she heard it.  

There was a knock on the front door and she felt a sudden, instinctive shudder of fear go through her.   No…  oh no…   Please, no… 

She opened the door to see the grim face of one of Major Yoo’s trusted comrade, Sergeant Choi. The Sergeant, who has a familiar gloom in his face, sighed and for the second time in his 41 years, he has to deliver news that he too was dreading.

Mo Yeon’s physical strength suddenly failed her.   If she hadn’t clutched the door knob convulsively, she would have fallen.   No… oh no…   And then in a silent scream of agony, Si Jin…  

In that one blinding, endless moment, she lived and died and suffered enough for a lifetime.   In that one moment, she paid the price, in full, for her happiness, for their happiness, seeing her entire future flash before her eyes in a nightmarish image of herself, the rest of her life as his widow (she flinched away from the word), raising their children alone…   No, no, oh no…  

“Mrs. Yoo,” Sergeant Choi began—and somehow, in some crazy way, just the sound of that name, her name, gave her some strength which she clung to desperately.   She was Mrs. Yoo, Si Jin’s wife and the woman who had already gone into hell and back with him; she would not, could not, give way now.  

“Mrs. Yoo, Mianhe, but Major Yoo Si Jin is gravely injured.   He is in the emergency ward of the Haesung Hospital now. We must ask you to come immediately.”  

He was still alive…   She clutched that thought to her heart desperately even as she felt her mind reeling from the suddenness of it, her every worst fear and nightmare coming true all at once.   

“Yes, of course,” she said with forced calm.   “I will be there at once, as soon as I get someone to come watch my children.”  

His impassive mask flickered with something like pity at the mention of the children.   “Arasso. Someone will be waiting for you at the entrance.”   He paused.   “Major Yoo’s condition is not hopeless,” he added, the words seeming impelled from him.  

“Kamsahamnida.”  

She closed the front door numbly, feeling the waves of black fear and panic beginning to surge up inside her and fighting them back.   No, she could not give way; she could not.  

Mr. Yoo Young Geun—she had to call his father.  

She went through her contacts—called his father-in-law and broke the news.  

He went silent in the other line and all he said was, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” 

“Ani,” she cut him off.  

“Mo Yeon ah--” he began in protest but she continued on hurriedly.  

“No.   Please, abeoji, I want you to come stay with the children for at least these first few hours.   If they wake up, they’ll be more reassured with their grandpa there than with anyone else and I don’t want to frighten them now before we know anything for sure.   I’ll—I’ll let you know when I get to the hospital and… and then, I’ll decide when and how to tell them.”  

He sighed.   “I’ll come over, as fast as I can,” he said somberly.  

“Thanks, abeojie. I will call my mother too, to keep you company.”  

“Mo Yeon,” he stopped her before she could end the call.  

She paused, listening at him, as his throat worked for a moment before he simply said, “Good luck.”  

She swallowed back the lump of fear.   “Neh.”  

She had no clear memory of how she got over to the Haesung Hospital after that, other than to be fleetingly grateful that she didn’t hurt herself on the way, didn’t remember being met at the entrance by some of her colleagues with a sympathetic expression etched on their faces.

All she was conscious of, through the litany of dread and fear, was one thought, one thought that seemed to burn her mind as if it were a flame.   It was too soon.   They hadn’t had enough time…  

Not enough time together…   A lifetime wouldn’t be enough of him, of loving him and being loved by him, of raising their children together—but this was definitely not enough.   They’d been married for 8 years—only 8 years—and it was too soon…  

She couldn’t lose him now…   Please, dear God, she couldn’t lose him now…   He wasn’t only her best friend, her husband and the father of her children—he was her life—what would she do without him?  

She didn’t emerge from her waking nightmare of searing fear until she faced the Chief Doctor of the Korean Army Reserved, Dr. Han Wang Suk  

“I have good news, Mrs. Yoo. He is out of immediate danger now; we’ve managed to stabilize him…” 

She said a little more, details about SI Jin’s condition, but Mo Yeon heard very little of it, her entire being consumed with just one thought, the words repeating in her head in a mantra of relief and gratitude: he is out of danger now.  

He was out of danger; he wasn’t going to die…   He wasn’t going to leave her.  

And something gave way inside her, a wall crashing down, and she brought her hand up to in an attempt to stifle the wild sobs of relief rising up inside her.  

He was out of danger; he wasn’t going to leave her…   And somehow, only then did she realize just how terrified she had been of the bleakness of her future if she lost him now; only then did she realize just how much she had dreaded having to somehow tell their children—and they were all still so young, so very young, too young to understand—that their beloved father was gone…  

Her breath was coming in gasps as she fought for some control, returning to the present to realize that Dr. Han had stopped speaking and was now regarding her with some sympathy mixed in with her professional manner.  

“I am afraid Major Yoo is still unconscious but you may sit with him now.”  

“Thank you.”   She rallied, finding some reservoir of strength and coherence from somewhere inside her.   “What more can you tell m