Date: September 5, 2018

Jisoo’s POV

                 Well, that was weird. One moment the guy was acting like a jerk and now all of a sudden he’s curious about me? Whatever, wasn’t my problem. I put on my headphones and began walking home. The route I took me past a few blocks of residences before several mom and pop stores emerged; I walked the path so often I memorized the line of stores that I was about to see. Some were still brightly lit inside with “OPEN” or “WELCOME” signs flashing into the dark, although not many would venture out in this cold weather for anything.
 

                 Seoul Style Salon… Mrs. Lee’s Sweet Hut… CocoHodo Walnut Bakery…
 

                 I stopped in front of the bakery after realizing the bright new signage plastered above the building; the last time I recalled, I could barely make out the name of the store–the print had eroded through the years of extreme weather conditions. I watched from the windows as a familiar woman with a plump build and faded red lipstick came into view. She was reorganizing paper bags behind the counter when a customer came in and greeted her–he seemed to be a regular. She dusted off her hands and gracefully smiled at the middle-aged man who stood on the other side of the counter, mouthing inaudible words that solicited a polite nod from him. The two proceeded to chat while I struggled to remember her name. After a few minutes of scolding myself for having such a terrible memory, the shopkeepers bell rang, announcing that someone had passed through the door. I looked to find the same man from earlier walking down the steps and back into his parked car. The full-figured woman hurried down after, waving and hollering at him, “See you soon Seo Joon!”

                 Before she returned inside, she spotted me. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise.


                 “Omo, is that you Jisoo?” she shrieked as she skipped towards me, sending her apron fluttering in the cold wind. She placed her arm around me and gave me a tight squeeze. The scent of freshly roasted walnuts clung to her tightly, the aroma bringing back memories of my childhood of when my family would frequent her shop for pastries. It was then that her name finally resurfaced in my brain–Kim Soo Jin.


                 “AH, Mrs. Kim, how are you?” I chirped back. “W-Wow, it has been forever since I’ve seen you.”


                 “Yes, yes, yes! I am so happy to see you! How is your family? How is umma, huh? Is she doing okay? How about Namjoon? Omo, I miss Namjoon so much. He is in the States right? And your fath–” her full grin shrunk into to a grim frown. I curiously waited for her to finish her sentence, but she quickly ushered me inside instead, “Aniya, nevermind. Come inside first honey–it’s freezing out here.”
 

                 I followed her inside and seated myself at a random table while Mrs. Kim turned off her “OPEN” sign and locked the front door, indicating that business hours were now over. She then disappeared into the kitchen for a bit before coming back with a hot cup of tea and a fresh plate of walnut pastries.


                 “Here, here, have some,” she prompted as she gently slid the plate over to me and sat down. I happily obliged.

                 We spent the next half hour catching up on everything we had missed out during the time we spent away from each other. I told her about law school, katana practice, and my brother who was now studying abroad, and she talked how about how proud she was for growing her business to what it was now–considering how little she had when she started out. She also briefly mentioned her son, whom I never met or knew she had. I zealously listened to her story.

                 “Yes, I do. My son… I haven’t seen him in years. My husband and I got into some serious trouble back then and I had to leave to make sure that the rest of the family wasn’t affected. It wasn’t my fault… but I had to do what I could as a mother to protect my son–but there is never a day that goes by where I don’t think about him or miss him. If I could, I would want to see him again but I’m afraid that he will resent me for leaving him like that,” she elaborated as she lowered her gaze in sorrow. She didn’t cry–but I knew it wasn’t because she didn’t care. I’m sure she did. I’m sure she spent a lot of time crying over her son–crying until she had no tears left. That was something every mother would mourn over, I thought.

                 “Mianhae,” I apologized. “I wish I could do something to help you.”


                 “Aniya Jisoo, it’s not your fault. You’re a good daughter. Your mother and father must be proud of you,” she reassured, weakly smiling at me before she took another sip of her tea. “Ah… Speaking of your father…”


                 My ears perked up. This was probably what she wanted to tell me earlier but didn’t.


                 “My father? What about him?” I anxiously prodded.
 

                 Mrs. Kim looked at me funny, as if shocked that I didn’t know much about my father.

                 “You.. You don’t know? Have you seen him recently? Oh my God, he looks–”


                 “Aniya,” I whispered. “He’s never home anymore. He’s always working somewhere.”


                 “What? Never home?” she raised her voice, almost as if at me. When she realized that had startled me, she immediately recomposed herself. “Sorry, I am really shocked Jisoo. Your dad was a very involved and caring person if I remember correctly. But I didn’t know he stopped coming home… I saw him passing by our bakery the other day, but he didn’t come in. He just stood outside, blankly staring off into the distance at something–I’m not sure what. When I finally realized he was there, I rushed outside to say hello but he had already run off by then.”
 

                 “W-What? He was this close to home but never came to visit us?” I angrily asked, feeling betrayed that my father would just abandon us like this.


                 “That is so strange… He had this wild, bizarre look in his eyes–I couldn’t even recognize him anymore. If it wasn’t for the white lab coat with his name embroidered on it, I wouldn’t have even known,” Mrs. Kim advised, eyebrows furrowing in deep worry. Her watch beeped twice, bringing our conversation to a halt. She glanced at it and quickly stood up, “Jisoo, I have to leave now. It’s late. If you need me, you know where I am. Your mother still has my number, I’m sure. Let me know how everything goes okay?”


                 “Thank you Mrs. Kim, I will.”

                 “Mom, I’m–” I immediately silenced myself when I found my mother dozing off on the living room couch under a warm blanket, waiting for me to return home. While disappointed that I had to wait until morning to speak with her about my father, I was also happy that she was getting the rest she needed–everything else can wait. Helen was on the adjacent couch in full slumber, slightly open as a gentle snore escaped from the back of . I grabbed the folded blanket beside her and covered her with it. More often than not, she got lost in dealing with the responsibilities needed to help the family run smoothly that she forgets to take care of herself, so I made sure that her well-being wasn’t overlooked. Then, I went in for a hot shower.


                 After dressing myself, I draped my towel around my shoulders to absorb any remaining moisture from my hair and headed towards my room for bed. Mrs. Kim’s story still lingered in my mind, stirring up all the different possibilities of why my father was acting so erratically–and more importantly, why he has been away from home for so long. On my walk down the hallway, I passed by my his study, which had been permanently locked since a decade ago; no one was allowed to go in–not that anyone even could without the four-digit passcode. The only people who knew were my mother and father. Stopping in my tracks, I retraced my memories that were now so faint I began to question whether these events actually occurred or not.
 

                 With a finger over his lips, warning me to stay quiet, my brother tiptoed to reach the steel number pad installed on the doorknob. Careful not to make too much noise, I let out a whisper of a giggle into my sweaty palm. My heart was racing in both excitement and fear; there was nothing more I wanted than to see whatever was behind that door–it was the room that everyone kept hidden, but that didn’t stop my brother and me from exploring what we could. Stealthily, Namjoon was able to steal a glance at the code the last time my father came home to retrieve something from his study before leaving for work.

                 My brother punched in the code incorrectly the first time–sending a red light from the keypad flashing into the darkness of the hallway. My stomach began to churn violently.


                 “Dang it!” he hissed under his breath. “I messed up!”


                 “Hurry and try it again!” I replied back, afraid that someone would catch us soon.


                 He took a deep breath before he forced himself back on his toes again and attempted another combination. This time, the light flashed green, and we heard a sharp click from the door handle, indicating that we had entered in the correct code.


                 “Yes!” I whispered with joy. “Open it!”

                 “Shh, be quiet!” he reminded before he slowly turned the knob and pushed inwards.

                 I watched as my brother’s eyes lit up in exhilaration–it felt like we had just found hidden treasure of some sort. Just before the room came into view, the door abruptly pulled forward and slammed shut–causing the both of us to fall backward in shock. What I had feared was now my reality; I looked up to find my mother staring down at us, her eyes filled with anger and disappointment–a look that was almost foreign to me, as she was the most nurturing and benevolent person in the entire world. That was how I knew I had crossed her.

                 “I have told you two many times that you are not allowed to be here–what about that don’t you understand?” she scolded loudly. “Helen, come here.”

                From the kitchen, I heard Helen drop her knife on the cutting board and come into the hallway, her bamboo slippers creating small whispers as they shuffled across the marble floor. I felt a lump at the back of my throat as my body began to stiffen in fear; what was going to happen next was something my brother and I were too familiar with.

                 “Please take them into my room and get the stick prepared,” my mother sternly commanded as Helen came into sight, the light on her face now displaced by the hallway’s shadows.

                 “Umma, please, we don’t do it again,” my brother pleaded, tears b at the corn of his eyes. “Don’t hit us!”
 

                 I stayed quiet, my mind still trying to process what would happen next. Helen looked down on us with pity and regret, as if she truly didn’t want to be my mother’s accomplice in disciplining us, but obliged out of her duty as our housekeeper and nanny.
 

                 “Kaja,” she gently murmured, extending her hands out for my brother and I to hold onto as she guided us back to my mother’s chamber.

                 Whatever was behind that door, I had to find out–if not now, then one day when I was older and wiser. Before my mother could leave my sight, before I lost the opportunity, I quietly turned back and squinted at the keypad as hard as I could–letting my weight naturally drop to the pull of gravity in order to slow Helen down and buy myself more time. I watched as my mother changed the passcode, ingraining each digit she touched into my brain.

                 1-0-2-6

                 I promised myself I would never forget.

                 Just remembering that moment made my body perspire in anxiousness. I dabbed off any moisture on my face with my towel and faced the door. My mind began to race. I lived my life believing that ignorance was bliss–the less I know the better–and that worked out for the most part. But for whatever reason, curiosity was tugging so hard at me I couldn’t find myself to follow through with that mentality this time. Did I really need to know what was behind that door? Would it change anything?

                 it.

                 If I hesitated any longer, I knew I would chicken out. I placed my shaky hands on the keypad and pressed in the numbers according to my hazy memory.
 

                 1….0….

                 Afraid that what I was about to discover would make me infinitely regret my decision of falling captive to feeding into my own nosiness, I began to hope that I remembered the wrong numbers. Maybe then the opportunity to come face-to-face with my past would disappear, and I could go back to living my ordinary life.
 

                 ...2….6…

                 But when the light flashed green, a surge of relief came over my body.


                 This was it.

I hope you guys liked this chapter! ^__^ The suspense is finally starting to build muahaha. I also decided to change the font; I think this one is a little easier on the eyes. I'll be working on changing the previous chapter's fonts. Have a great weekend guys! :D

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