Playlist here

Kyungsoo left early in the morning for the debates, hair slicked back and shirt collar pressed to crisp perfection. From her bedroom window, Jandi watched him go, wondering if she should have gone down to send him off and wish him luck.

Conversations with him ever since she had found that photo in the children’s book had felt odd, uncomfortable; Jandi figured it was just her feeling guilty about having intruded on his private memories with his parents without his knowledge, because Kyungsoo didn’t seem to notice anything off. To be fair though, he had been quite distracted for the last day preparing for the debate. His fiercest political opponents, all relatively young, middle-of-the-pack, and hoping to get through the primaries using any strategy necessary, would be at the debate today. The incumbents and frontrunners would be at another set of debates the next day, leaving the more junior politicians to scrap amongst themselves.

Kyungsoo’s car disappeared into the horizon just as the sun was emerging, warming the sky to a rosy red hue. Should I even bother going back to bed? Jandi wondered. She was tired from staying up late to listen to the radio, but if she fell asleep again, she would risk missing the start of Kyungsoo’s debate.

She sat down on the edge of her bed. Her foot started shaking up and down, unable to hold still. Nope. Can’t do it. Back up she stood. Drat. Jandi had started to suspect it since she woke up this morning, but now it was confirmed: she was nervous. Nervous not for herself or any of the tasks of the day, but for her husband and his performance at the debates.

“You’d better not mess up,” she said aloud, as if Kyungsoo were standing right in front of her. “You’ve been working too hard to mess up now. I’ll… I’ll file for a divorce if you mess up!”

The threat was so ridiculous, so completely out of the bounds of her ability, that she started giggling and couldn’t stop. Gasping for breath, she glanced back out the window, froze, then screamed.

“Shhh!” Jongin held a finger to his lips from where he was hanging from a vine outside her window. “You’ll wake up all the servants. I just need to talk to you!”

Jandi’s heart was still stuttering from the shock. “What - what are you doing here? How did you get up here?”

Jongin flapped the hand that wasn’t holding onto the vine. “Doesn’t matter. Open the window a little wider, will you? I can’t climb in from this angle.”

She instinctively moved toward the window, then realized what she was doing and backed away. “No! Why should I? I barely know you.”

Gritting his teeth, he readjusted his grip. “Just do it. My arm’s getting tired, and I’m sure you don’t want to explain why there’s a dead body under your window.”

She really didn’t. “But -”

“I’m gonna go splat in a couple seconds if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay, okay!” Opening the window just enough so he could clamber in, Jandi eyed the kennel boy carefully, then backed away toward the door. “Now what do you want?”

He grimaced. “Why are people always in such a hurry? At least let me recover for a second. I’ve been hanging out there for nearly an hour, you know. The gardener almost caught me.”

“An hour?” Jandi stared at him in horror. “I haven’t even been awake that long!”

“Well obviously, or else I would have come in earlier, wouldn’t I?” Jongin scowled, massaging his bicep. “Not like I could have come in through the front door. I’m not pretty enough for the big house, remember?”

Jandi made a mental note that Jongin was grumpy in the mornings. Or maybe it was only mornings that he spent hanging from a vine outside windows. She didn’t know him well enough to say.

“You could have… knocked,” she said sheepishly. “I might have woken up.”

“You didn’t.” He shrugged, the annoyance diminishing somewhat now that his arm was apparently recovering. “Whatever. Have you been listening to the radio?”

Jandi stiffened up automatically, then forced herself to relax when she remembered Jongin had been the one to give her the radio and therefore knew she had it. “Yes.”

“Good. Then you should know what’s going on.”

“What?” Although she had been listening, Jandi thought that a rather unfair assessment. “How am I supposed to know what’s been going on just by a bunch of random numbers?” she asked hotly. All the channels but the one with Hyemin’s voice had been oddly quiet for the last few nights, and Jandi had yet to figure out what the numbers meant.

Jongin frowned. “Are you listening to the right channels?”

She crossed her arms. “How do I know what are the right channels and the wrong channels?”

“You -” He stopped, eyeing her again. “You mean you weren’t listening to the broadcast about Geumdo last night?”

Jandi’s blood ran cold. Geumdo? My home, Geumdo? Geumdo where my entire family lives, where my parents and my brothers and sisters and friends are?

“Tell me what was on the broadcast,” she said, voice trembling and fists clenched. “Tell me right now!”

Mouth slightly open, Jongin looked as taken off guard as she had ever seen him. “I thought you knew.”

“Well clearly, I don’t!” The delay in information was getting to her, and the shaking of her body was more pronounced. “Tell me now!”

There came a knock at the door. “Young Mistress?”

Jongin cursed.

The knock came again. “Young Mistress?” The maid’s voice was high with concern. “Are you alright? I heard a scream.”

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