When I got to Dad's I hardly even had to knock. He must have seen me through the window. I almost punched him in the face, but held back at the last minute. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. He held out his arms and I got in them, hugging him right in the doorway.

"Kimmy, you look great!" he said. His face crinkled when he smiled, the area next to his eyes creased into millions of folds.

I scoffed. "Seriously dad, even you look better." I said, and we were laughing again.

He held my hand as he pulled me into the house. It was just like I remembered it. Only, the people in it were older and wiser. And there were two extra heartbeats.

"So, which winds pushed you my way?" my dad asked.

"The winds of loneliness." I lamented. "And I missed you." I hugged him one more time and breathed in his warm scent, the smell of burnt cinnamon. I loved that smell, especially during storms or sad nights.

"How are you? How's my son-in-law? Is he okay?" His eyes glistened when he asked about Jiyong-ah. I smiled.

"He's fine, we're both fine. We're getting used to our new house. It's huge! It feels like it could fit all of South Korea in there!" I made wide-spread arm gestures to emphasize the humongousity of the new house.

"So you're happy?" Dad asked, chuckling.

I nodded. "I'm happy."

He smiled, his eyes disappearing again, and patted my hand. "Then I'm happy." Suddenly his face turned serious. "Do you want some coffee? Something to eat?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you, I'm fine." I smiled to back myself up. "I have something to tell you."

"Lemme guess, you're getting married in two weeks?" he joked.

"One week and six days." I corrected him. "But that's not it." I took a deep breath. This was it. "I'm p—"

The phone started ringing, interrupting my sentence. Dammit.

"Hold that thought." My dad held up one finger as he backed out of the room and into the kitchen to pick up the phone. He came back in seconds, the phone pressed into his ear. He tried hard to hear the other end.

"Honey, stop crying and I'll help you." he said, frowning. I realized he was a father better suited for daughters than sons. "Uh huh. I understand. Do you want me to come over? No, you don't have to call her, she's right here. Yes, she's beside me. Here, talk to her."

Me? I hesitantly took the phone from his outstretched hand. "Hello?" I asked.

"Kim-ssi!" a hysterical Daesung screamed in my ear. "Quick! It's hyung!"

I knew instantly who he was talking about. Who else would he call me for? "What's wrong?!" I asked. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know! He just collapsed! I– we were recording, and all of a sudden, crash! He's down! I didn't know what to do, so I called you!"

I was on my feet already, walking to the door. I flung my purse over my shoulder and grabbed my jacket in my hands. "I'm on my way. Call a doctor or something!"

I tossed the phone back to my dad and left him hanging. Sorry, Dad. I'll be back. I've gotta be anyway.

I flagged a cab and jumped in. I told him the address, and he eyed me up and down, taking in my franticness and sighed. He probably thought I was a crazy fan-mom person. Whatever. I don't care. I need to get to Jiyong.

My heart pounded as my mind raced a hundred miles a minute. What if something happened to Jiyong? What would I do? What would our kids do?! I shouldn't think like that, I know, but if I had any control over my brain I would've stopped thinking a long time ago.

It's too early for anything. He's still young. Too fast to live, too young to die, right? My eyes started to dampen at the thought. Why am I doing this to myself? I leaned my head against the window of the cab, praying to God for Him to keep my love, my Ji, safe.

"Miss, we're here." the driver said, looking backwards.