The Song Country House was her mother’s favourite place when she was a child. There was a beautiful forest and lake. Arran also liked this place. She felt drawn to the water and maybe she felt closer to her mother here. This was where she’d first found her mother’s diary hidden in walls and read about Song Gaelin’s young love for Lee Soo-hyuk. It was where she’d first fallen in love with the idea of love and decided that she too would one day have a great love. Her love story with Kris was meant to equal her parents but now, it would never be because of this guy. Arran looked at the unconscious man. She’d drugged him with his own supply. He should wake up any moment now and he’d see the sunrise.

The warm glow of the sun appeared on the horizon. Arran closed her eyes feeling those first rays wash over her aching and cold body. How she wished they could heal her. On the hard pebbles of the shore, Minjun started to stir. The lake rushed up to lap at his feet. Arran breathed in long and deep. Even that hurt.

“Where…” Minjun looked around. His vision adjusted and he made out the silhouette of a woman, long black hair blowing wildly in the cold morning air, the pale skin, willowy body swaying back and forth, fragile. Beautiful. “Arran.”

“Arran?” she whispered, “I recognise your voice now Park Minjun.” She closed her eyes, “It is the voice that stayed with me for five years. Hidden in my mind. Locked away.”

His wrists were bound behind his back. The knot was professional. He couldn’t loosen the bonds or work his hands free. “I’m confused.” Minjun tried to buy time. There was no way she could have found out after five years. He was invisible to her, to her stupid boyfriend…to her brothers. They didn’t even suspect him ten years ago. It was so easy to blame Soojin because he’d been the flashy one, the strong macho type who looked like he’d hit a girl. Well that much was true anyway and the er deserved to be in jail.

Arran collapsed beside him. He sat still. This was not like the previous times. Now she was completely in her right sense of mind. Also, she might not be alone. What if one of her psycho brothers lurked around. This could be a trap to get him to confess.

“I used to sit out here for hours. My brothers would be off playing somewhere. I could easily keep up with them, but their games bored me.” She glanced at him, “There’s a story about Song women. My grandmother almost died here when she was a little girl. She said a lady called her out of her bed and told her to enter the water. She spent a week recovering in bed. When they asked what women, she pointed to a family portrait hanging in her bedroom, “That woman,” she said.

“But that is impossible,” my great grandmother told her, “For that is your ancestor and she is long dead.”

“How did she die?” my grandmother asked h