After the first few awful days, Seungwan began to adapt to her new circumstances. In many ways, being in jail reminded her of growing up in the orphanage. The internal hierarchy set up by the inmates, the power struggles and bullying, the plain, boring meals, the utilitarian rooms and the wide, empty exercise yard. She didn’t have anyone like Baekhyun to look after her, but then, she wasn’t five years old anymore. It was time for Wendy to let go of her childhood fantasies, stop waiting for Peter Pan to come back for her, and grow up. Growing up was the only way to survive in the adult world, where magic withered up and died. She forced her tears down, where they stung inside her and turned bitter. She clenched her fists and made the childish feelings morph into grown-up ones. Fear into anger. Shame into blame.

“I heard they searched your intake group.”

Seungwan looked up from where she was sitting on a bench in the exercise yard, scuffing shapes into the dust with the toes of her canvas shoes. Irene was standing over her, blocking the sunlight. The clouds of dust Seungwan had scuffed up caught the light around her, like a strange, glowing aura around an angel wearing prison clothes.

“Yes,” Seungwan said. She pressed her lips together. Anger, she thought. Blame.

Irene sat down beside her. It was the first time she’d spoken to Seungwan. Up till now, she’d completely ignored her.

“Did they search you too?” Seungwan asked her.

Irene gave a small, scoffing laugh. “They wouldn’t dare. It’s illegal these days, so they only do it to prisoners who don’t have a way to complain. They know I have a good attorney. They’d face criminal charges if I complained.”

Seungwan thought about Chanyeol. She had someone to complain to, but the idea of telling him about it made her face go hot with shame. No, she thought. Shame to blame. But blame needed a target, and she didn’t know who’d ordered the search, so she didn’t have anyone to direct it at. She thought she might as well send it at Chanyeol. Even if she told him what had happened, he probably wouldn’t care. He cared about finding Baekhyun’s killer and nothing else, or he wouldn’t have sent her here. Baekhyun would never have let her do this, no matter how hard she begged.

“If it’s illegal,” she asked Irene, “then why…”

“They do it to dehumanize prisoners, to humiliate us. It shows us who’s in charge, and I’m sure they like the feeling of power they get from it. People are all the same. Give them a bit of power and they’ll do anything they can to make your life miserable.”

Seungwan nodded. “It was the same in the orphanage. The older kids hit the younger ones, and when the younger ones got older, they did the same to the ones younger than them. Even though they knew how much it hurt, even though they hated the kids that hit them, they still did the same thing when they got power.”

“You grew up in an orphanage?”

“My mother died when I was five. She was a e, and I was a mistake. She never knew which of her clients my father was, so I had no other family.”

Irene looked a little sad. “I know a boy just like you. His mother was my friend before she died. I couldn’t let him grow up in one of those awful places, so I brought him up instead.”

“He's lucky,” Seungwan said wistfully. “Having you to look after him.”

“He's a good boy, my Jongdae,” Irene said, and smiled, her eyes going distant.

“Who's looking after him now you're in here?”

“Oh, he's grown up now, with a life of his own,” Irene said. “He’s older than you. He’s doing well for himself. He was always a smart kid.”

Seungwan could hear the slight hint of longing in Irene’s voice. “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Every now and then he pays me a visit for old time’s sake. He hasn’t come to see me here, though.”

“I’m sure he’ll come visit you soon.”

Irene smiled wryly. “I doubt it. He only comes when he wants something and there’s not much I can give him at the moment. Besides, I wouldn’t want him to see me like this.” She plucked distastefully at her rough khaki shirt.

“You make it look like Prada,” Seungwan said.

Irene threw back her head and laughed. It was a free, golden laugh, and it was the first unguarded expression Seungwan had seen from Irene. She’s so beautiful, she thought with sudden admiration. Even in prison.

“I’ll admit, when the model is perfect, she makes anything look good,” Irene said. “Perhaps I’ll take this outfit with me when I get out and start a new trend.”

“Cell block chic,” Seungwan grinned. “All the girls will be committing crimes so they can get an authentic jumpsuit of their own.”

“Bae Joohyun!” They both looked towards the guard who’d called out. He gestured to Irene. “You have a visitor. Come with me.”

Irene rolled her eyes and sighed as if having to go and see her visitor was an irritation she could do without, but Seungwan didn’t miss the sudden hope that sprang into her eyes. She knew Irene was hoping it was the little boy - Jongdae, she'd called him - whom she’d raised. Despite what Irene had said about not wanting him to come, she still wished he would. Realising this surprised Seungwan, because up till now she’d thought Irene was a cold, calculating ice queen. Now, she rather suspected all that was just a protective wall. There was kindness hidden inside Irene, and love enough to raise the orphaned child of a friend. Seungwan found herself hoping on Irene’s behalf that it was Jongdae who’d come to visit.

She closed her eyes, leaned back against the wall of the prison block behind her, and let the warmth of the sun play across her face. With her eyes closed, she could imagine that she was in the park that ran alongside the Han River through the middle of Seoul. There would be people jogging and cycling along the paths, children playing in the open spaces, groups of friends sitting on blankets and sharing food, couples sitting with their arms around each other, whispering sweet words and stealing kisses...

The hour-bell rang shrilly, making her jump. It signalled the end of recreation hour. She reluctantly joined the other women making their way back inside, watched all the time by the prison guards.

Irene was brought back about ten minutes after Seungwan and the four other women who shared cell D-16. Her expression was dark, and she sat down on her pile-of-blankets throne and leaned back against the wall without saying a word. She was giving off “leave-me-alone” vibes so powerfully that the other women had scooted away to the furthest walls, but Seungwan gathered up her courage and shuffled over to sit cross-legged beside Irene’s blankets.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

Irene rolled her eyes and started inspecting her nails. Seungwan had almost given up when the other woman finally spoke.

“Little bastard,” she muttered. “Just who does he think he is?”

“Who?”

“Some stupid friend of Jongdae’s. Honestly, I don’t know what Jongdae sees in him.”

“Did Jongdae send him to visit you, then?”

“No. He came to ask me something." She gave an irritated huff. “When I say ask, I mean demand. Kid’s got no manners. As if I’d tell him anything in response to his stupid threats.”

“He doesn’t sound very nice,” Seungwan said sympathetically. Irene looked startled, then laughed.

“Seungwan, you are adorable. How did you even end up in here? You don’t seem the type.”

Seungwan looked away. She didn’t know if she could lie convincingly to Irene’s face, so she kept her eyes cast down.

“I needed money,” she said. “I agreed to do some deliveries…you know the kind…for some of the older kids I knew from the orphanage. But I wasn’t very good at it. I got nervous, and the police caught me on my first run.”

“That’s rotten luck,” Irene said. “But running is not a good way to make money, Seungwan. Drug money is dirty money.”

“I know, but…” she trailed off, tracing a pattern against the floor with her fingertips as tears rose up into her eyes. The story wasn’t true, but it could so easily have been that it was easy to identify with the feeling. “I needed money. My brother who was looking after me, he…” she stopped and took an unsteady breath. It was so hard to say the words, but she forced them out. “He died.”

Irene made a small noise of pity, but didn’t say anything. Feeling oddly grateful not to hear the words I’m sorry, Seungwan continued. “Orphans have no chance against kids with family and money. I didn’t get to go to after-school academy and do extracurricular activities like they did. I can’t afford to go to college. Nobody would hire a girl like me.”

Irene sighed, and then there was a touch on her shoulder. Seungwan glanced up through watery eyes to see Irene pat the space on the blankets beside her. Seungwan was uncertain she’d understood correctly, but Irene nodded and smiled, so she scrambled up to sit beside her. Irene put her arm around her and pulled her close. It was the first time Seungwan had been touched in an affectionate way since Baekhyun had died, and a painful lump rose up in . She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to burst into tears.

“I know how it is,” Irene said. “Don’t worry, Seungwan. If it’s your first offence, they won’t keep you here long. When you get out, why don’t you come and work for me?”

“Really?” Seungwan wiped her eyes, hardly daring to believe it.

“I own several businesses. My call girls earn the most, but if you don’t want to do that, you can work behind the bar or waitress.”

“Thank you,” Seungwan breathed. She leaned into Irene’s side, enjoying the comfort of being close to another person. This was easier than she’d thought. Chanyeol had never said that Irene was kind. Working as a waitress or call girl wasn’t going to get her close enough to Irene to find out the things she needed to know, but at least it was a start.

That night, she lay awake on her thin blanket on the hard wooden floor, head pillowed on her arm. Her eyes were half-open, gazing at the window. The white light from the outside floodlights shone down into the cell, making barred patterns on the floor. It reminded her of the way the corridor had looked on her first night in the orphanage, when Baekhyun had come out to find her, sprinkled glitter in her hair and made her fly. The choking ache she felt whenever she thought of Baekhyun wasn’t getting any less painful, but maybe she was getting a little better at bearing it.

She had almost fallen asleep when something made her go suddenly alert. Something had changed in the patterns of the breathing around her. Someone else was awake. She kept her eyes half-closed and watched the silhouette of one of the other women sit up. After a few moments of complete stillness, the shape moved again, getting up with silent grace and starting to move across the room, away from Seungwan, towards the opposite wall. There was something about that utterly silent gait that chilled Seungwan. She watched, lying stil