As Minho locked the door behind him, he heard the heavy footsteps of Onew behind him. Although the floor was carpeted, Onew still managed to create a loud thump whenever his foot hit the ground.

            Minho turned around. “I’m home, hyung.” He carefully stepped out of his shoes and lined them up by the front door. Minho was very well organised, and cursed under his breath when he spotted his brother’s skewed shoes.

            “Yo,” Onew replied, ruffling Minho’s hair. “How was school?” Onew trudged into the kitchen with Minho close behind him.

            “Good,” he said. He considered telling Onew about the notebook, but he decided not to. “Hyung, you knew my mother before she died, right?”

            Onew nodded, looking at the younger.

            Now Minho took a breath. “Then, how did she die? Do you know?”

            “Your father never told you?”

            Minho shook his head and looked down. “He just told me she died. Is she really dead?”

            Onew sighed. “She is. Do you really want to know?”

            Minho wrung his hands. “Yeah. Jonghyun-hyung and I were talking about it today... I don’t know how my own mother died.”

            “Right.” He said. “Well, your mother was in a car accident. She was in hospital for a long time and you know everyone thought she would make it. Every doctor. And I guess, because she must’ve been thinking about you, she held on for two weeks. It was so sudden... She was doing so well and then the next thing I heard, she was gone.” Onew sniffed. “Oh God, I’m sorry, Minho.”

            Minho patted Onew’s back. “What’re you sorry for? You didn’t do anything, hyung,”

            Onew looked up at Minho, holding fierce eye contact for a few seconds. Fear, anger, pain and sorrow clouded Onew’s normally clear eyes. He swallowed and started to speak again. “She was running from me...” He paused, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “When she got hit, she was running from me.”

            Minho pulled away, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the reason, hyung?”

            Onew nodded. “That’s why I’m so sorry, Minho. It was my fault. I felt so guilty, so guilty. You know I loved her so much... I was just so excited to see her in Korea again. I saw her in a cafe and I yelled for her. When she saw me, she started running. I wasn’t going to chase her... She ran straight into the car’s path, and that idiot, that bastard didn’t even stop. He just kept driving,”

            Onew wiped his tears, which had begun falling long ago. Minho squeezed his hyung’s hand.

            Taking a long and shaky breath, Onew continued. “I couldn’t bear it and someone needed to be punished for taking that beautiful woman from this world. I told the police all the information I knew. I was supposed to be happy when they convicted the driver, but not even something like that can bring your mother back. I’m so sorry, Minho,”

           Minho dropped Onew’s hand. Could his mother really have been the one in that case? He needed to confirm. “Hyung, who was arrested for the hit?”
            Onew sniffed once more. “Kim Hyunchoo”.

            “And who is Kim Sunglee?” He asked.

            “He’s the head of Kim-An Industries or something,” Onew replied.

            Minho nodded. “Thank you, hyung. I don’t blame you, though.” Minho stood up and hugged Onew. “It wasn’t your fault, hyung. It wasn’t.”

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            Key lay on his bed, flipping through the pages of Taemin’s notebook until he got to his own story. Not bothering to read the other four, he read his twice before stopping and staring at the ceiling. A foreign woman had been killed in a hit-and-run and his father had turned someone in for it. Key sighed, pursing his lips and putting the notebook back in his bag.

            He knew his father had actually killed the woman, but he wanted to know who he had blamed. Whose father was in jail unfairly? Which innocent man was serving a sentence that wasn’t his? Whose husband was locked away for life? Sighing again, Key looked around his room.

            He’d never imagined his father to do something so evil. He’d always thought his father was an honourable man, a man who would take responsibility for his own wrong doings. What would Key even do with this information? Could he, would he turn his own father in? Would he be willing to deal with his mother’s wrath at having her husband arrested, although he should have been all along?

            He sat up and drank a glass of mineral water. Shoving all thoughts of this mystery aside, he opened his math book and began to work.