Sehun loads our bags into the back fo the car and I notice that mine is significantly fuller than it was when we arrived. I can only guess that he took a few items from Sejeong's closet or from the room in general before we left, but I didn't actually see him do it because it was all I could do to eat some bread and butter and orange juice.

I make the mistake of looking toward the sunrise and the bright light feels like it's piercing my skull. If we were doing anything other than looking for appa, I would run back inside and dive under some pillows for the next two days.

"Feeling any better?" Sehun asks, and opens my car door for me.

"I think the charcoal is definitely helping, but I swear I'm never drinking whisky again," I say unhappily as I slide into my seat.

Sehun gives me a knowing smile. "Noted," he says, and closes the door.

I wince at the sound of the car door shutting and lean my head back against the seat.

Sehun gets into the driver's side and starts the engine. "I'll make sure there's none of it served at our wedding."

I look at him sideways. "Our wedding?" Then is dawns on me-my drunken rambling last night. "Oh. . . god." I put my face in my hands as Sehun reaches over to pat my head. He then drives us around the circle and away from the Western-styled manor. "Please tell me I didn't say what I think I said."

"I'll admit, I always thought that when a girl finally proposed to me, it would be better choreographed than that. But at the time, I think you may have been a two-foot-tall seal. And it was pretty romantic for a seal."

"This is so not funny," I say.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Sehun says as we dive down the empty street shadowed with tree branches in the soft morning light. "That definitely makes my top three best conversations of all time."

"This would be easier if I couldn't remember what I said. Aren't you supposed to forget everything when you're drunk like that? Where art thou, friendly amnesia?" I say, and Sehun laughs. "Why don't we talk about something less awful, like how terrifying this blacksmith is."

"I did promise I would tell you more in the morning," Sehun says, giving a way out but still looking far too amused.

"You most certainly did," I say, leaving no room to further discuss me as a marine mammal.

Sehun uses his left hand to steer with such ease that I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been driving since he was six. But before he can get a word out, Junho's comment about the Ferryman floods my thoughts.

"The Ferryman," I blurt out, remembering Sehun's reaction last night. "I saw you face when I said his name. You know who he is, don't you?"

His expression shifts to being unreadable, which makes me wonder what he's hiding. "I know of him."

I fight the urge to blabber nervously and instead sit in anxious stillness, hoping he'll tell me the Ferryman is less awful than the hardened killer I imagine.

"He's . . .," Sehun starts, and stops. "He's known by reputation more than anything else. I've never met him."

"What kind fo reputation?" I say, fear seeping into my words.

"Efficient," he says, and my rib cage tightens around me, but Sehun doesn't continue.

"Go on," I say, and he turns to me.

"Suzy -"

"No, Sehun. Tell me. I know you know more. And if this guy is after my dad, I need to know who he is."

Sehun exhales. It's not like him to avoid direct question. "He's not affiliated with one Family but works with all of them. He rarely takes on missions, but when he does, he completes them. Everyone wants to work with him. He's . . . skilled."

Sehun's reserved tone tells me everything I need to know. When Sehun says "skilled," what he really meant is a brilliant assassin.

"What I don't understand is, why did Junho warn me about him?" I say, looking at Sehun to make sense of it for me. I was already tipsy when I was trying to reason it out last night and I didn't get very far.

Sehun glances at me. "It was part of your negotiation, was it not?" he says, and there is something skin to worry in his tone.

"Not exactly," I say. "Before he decided to trade information with me, he told me someone had already been there asking about appa. He wouldn't have said it if he didn't want me to know it, right?"

"No, he wouldn't," Sehun says, and his eyebrows dip.

"Do you think Jungo knew who I was before I told him?" I ask, my concerns from last night burgeoning into anxiety. "And if he already knew who I was, why would he bother trading with me?"

"I couldn't say for certain," Sehun says, and his grip tightens ever so slightly on the steering wheel. "He told you about the bounty and about the Ferryman. Then he pointed you toward the blacksmith, correct? Is there anything I'm missing?"

I shake my head. "Is it possible my dad traded with Junho in order to tell me those things?"

"In order to point you to the balcksmith . . . yes, that could be the case," Sehun says. "Junho went so far as to bring you Kyungsoo's address-a deliberate and heavy-handed action." Something about the way Sehun carefully chooses his words sets me on edge.

"Right, so maybe appa wanted me to know there was a bounty on his head, which makes sense, and then directed us to the next place we could gather information," I say. "But that doesn't explain why Junho led with the fact that someone was following appa. If the Ferryman is as goof as you say, Junho wouldn't want to cross him by making his plans known, right?" And as I reason it out, my stomach sinks. I feel the color drain from my cheeks. "Oh no. Please tell me that I'm misreading this."

Sehun presses his lips together.

"Sehun? Did the Ferryman want me to know that he's following my dad? Does the Ferryman know I exist?" I say, my temples pulsating.

Sehun exhales audibly. "I'm going over what you told me backward and forward, but that is the only possibility I can see."

"Why would the Ferrymna want me to know that?" I ask, trying to come up with some reason it's not true. "Letting someone know you're after their dad doesn't fit with the usual Strategia tactics."

"Unless someone is so goof at what they do that it's the only way to make it interesting," Sehun says,  and I feel dizzy. "The Ferryman is a hunter, Suzy. He's letting you know you're a mark."

I stare at Sehun, knowing I will regret asking him this question but unable to help myself. "Why do they call him the Ferryman?" My voice is quieter.

Sehun doesn't look at me when he answers. "Because when he kills people, he leaves a coin in their hand."