Jennie celebrated her birthday in the hospital. I was on my last semester of college when she was discharged.

In addition to the collapsed lung, she had mild concussion, and a broken leg in too many places to tally. Once she was out of the hospital, she had to start physical therapy for that. I immediately began helping as often as I could, between my classes and my new job serving ice cream at the theater.

BoA moved in with me and Dad just a few months after that. I wondered sometimes if she questioned the day I somehow knew I needed to be with Jennie, or if her placing her hand on her stomach had been some kind of indication that she’d felt that same feeling before, too. I knew she couldn’t see the numbers, but maybe sensing that something terrible was going to happen to a loved one wasn’t something totally exclusive to people like Hoony and me.

Seunghoon-oppa and I continued hanging out at least twice a week. When I wasn’t with Jennie, working, or in school, I usually with him ever since I stepped away from that cliff, Hoony was more determined than ever to avoid giving me any more details about my number. I supposed, I wouldn’t know what it was until it was time for me to go and I was surprisingly okay with that.

Seeing Jennie’s number change didn’t make me gain faith in some sort