"Mommy and Daddy didn't like the way he played with me sometimes. They said it was disgusting and daddy called him a creepy little and mommy couldn't stop crying. So he killed them. One night. He trapped them. Pulled me outside. And burned the house down. We stayed at his friend's house. He and his friend played with me as much as they wanted because his parents were out of town."

Hyojin could guess what they did to her. It wasn't uncommon.

"I could've warned them. I could've even tried to stop him from setting the curtains on fire. But I didn't. I just stood there next to him and watched it all burn up in smoke. All the anger. All the sadness. All the screaming. All the crying. Mommy and daddy went to a better place. They can't feel the pain of the world anymore now that they're dead."

She had a twisted notion of peace. Too young... and yet...

"I love them... mommy and daddy. I still cry sometimes when I think of them."

Even though Hyojin knew the girl had been questioned many times about the death of her brother, she went ahead with her directness and asked anyway. "Did you stab your brother, Xinling?"

"All the time... I imagine it all the time."

"Did you, Xinling?"

"That night, I don't remember. In the morning, I woke up next to him with a knife in my hand. And blood. Lots and lots of blood. On my face. On my arms. On my clothes."

Ever since the death of her brother, Xinling acquired an acute fear of the opposite . She was afraid of what they might do to her. She was afraid of what she might do to them. She was afraid that if something happened again, triggering a memory she didn't wish to recall, she wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

Gong Hyojin, being the unorthodox social worker that she was, devised an impractical plan to cure this fear. She placed her faith in the troubled girl. She gave Xinling a kitchen knife. She had Xinling hold her son's hand while they slept. Because... well... because she was one crazy lady, to put it lightly. How the did she ever pass the personality screening?

"If Jaejoong tries to play with you, Xinling. You have a means of protecting yourself. And Jaejoong... you won't do anything to Xinling, will you, baby?"

"No." Her son, Jaejoong, didn't mind that his mother used him as an experimental remedy. As long as it made her happy. As long as it proved beneficial to his new sister. He was fine with anything.

ed up. Just plain ed up. Like mother like son.

"I'm scared, Hyojin. What if I hurt him without knowing? What if I—"

"I will pray for you... both. Good night, sweethearts."

Gong Hyojin, this woman... she was her own religion.

Lonely grey skies grew lonelier still. It looked to rain soon. With a black storage tube under his arm, Junsu flowed with the throng of people as they rushed to work and school. Posing as an art student, he'd been tailing the tall redhead for two days.  She was one of the main witnesses testifying against So Jisub, a celebrity among politicians. Junsu was given orders to silence her before the date of her testimony. He'd done thorough research... from her medical records to her hobbies and pastimes. Her records revealed an early heart complication that has kept her on heavy medication for the past year and a half. That particular fact made his job easy to cover up.

He had just the right drug in mind. All he needed to do was freeze it into the shape of a small dart. When shot at high velocity, it would break through the skin and dissolve into the blood stream. The drug would render the medication useless, leading to a heart attack, and presumably to her imminent death.

The drug was undetectable... unless it was specifically screened for.

Today, she was on her usual morning walk with a bodyguard by her side. A bodyguard. What a joke. Junsu aimed his black storage tube, pulled back the safety lock, and released the dart from its icy case.

The redhead tensed up and his job was complete.

Week after week, my interest in her elevates. Curiosity rakes my body and I must know. After a late session, disregarding all better judgment, I leave my office and follow her. I am doing what I have warned others against. I seek knowledge for its own sake rather than dream and let it elude me and change into something else. To possess an untroubled mind is difficult. To deal with a troubled mind is even more so.

I am well aware that I will be misunderstood and ridiculed for my unconventional actions. But the truth I seek far outweighs the consequences. Is she capable of killing another human being?

She stops in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and stares up at the grey sky. I stop too and so does the man on the other side of the street. My eyes drift between her and the man. They are both looking at the sky. I tilt my head back and see nothing but low clouds, aimless and ordinary. He turns his head towards her. Even with the dark shades, I know he is watching her. Is he a stalker? A fan who recognizes her even without the mask? And then, my view changes, in a flash of revelation, like an ideal discovery. This man. He knows her... more than I ever could.